SW: Kotor Shadow
by Delerius Jedi
Summary: Knights of the Old Republic kotor : Darth Revan has returned to defeat his old apprentice, Darth Malak and reclaim his mantle of Dark Lord. But is it really just power that Revan desires?
1. Shadow's Kiss part 1: Fallen Passion

Disclaimer: All characters are trademark of Bioware.  
Author's note: Well, my first fic. Hope you all enjoy it and please leave reviews. Constructive feedback is always welcome :)

Shadow's Kiss

Chapter one: Fallen passion

The figures stood out against the blackness of space, occasional flashes of light made them visible through the massive view-ports. The first was tall, clad in red, with a horrific metal prosthesis located where his jaw would be. The sabre that he brandished produced a powerful long beam, designed to cleave through anyone's defence, but now he'd met his match.

The second figure was male, smaller than the first and clad in a dark robe that hid the face underneath. Only the eyes, hidden in shadow, gave any sign of emotion. The sheer amount of force radiating from him humbled even the greatest masters, although this would be the last thing a Force sensitive person would know as his blade cleaved them in two.

The blades clashed again, crimson red against a slightly dark yellow one. As they spattered against each other, sparks and flashes of energy discharges flew into the cold air. Darth Malak, Lord of the Sith, grunted as his own blade was inexorably pushed back, the anger flowing through the smaller figure, giving it unstoppable strength from the dark side. Once again the sabers clashed and squealed against each other, as both combatants placed all of their respective strength behind each blow.

"You cannot win, Revan!" Malak grunted. His voice, an electronic sounding synthesis of man and machine, had made entire worlds tremble at the sight of him. The figure paused for a few seconds as the sabers blew away form each other and spun his own in a taunting manner. Malak narrowed his eyes and charged once more. He had vanquished many Sith and far more Jedi than he cared to remember, but now…

"I want my mantle back, Malak and I'll wash it clean with your blood first!"

With that, the figure slashed in a complex figure eight move. Malak grunted as his own robes, enhanced with cortosis, sparked against the slashing motions. His eyes were wide in fear as he struggled to cope with the onslaught of his opponent. A man of normal build and height should not be able to do this to him; he glanced at his opponent, attempting to judge his condition. A man that you wouldn't grant a second glance if it weren't for the black robes he wore, hood pulled up around his face and a black cape flaring behind him; Darth Revan.

Malak had often wondered how things would have played out if it had been himself who had been captured a year ago. Would he be here? Trying to take control of the Sith for himself, or would fate have shown him a different path? He was the Dark Lord, had bested Revan and seized control of the Sith with a single brilliant stroke. It would have been his ultimate triumph…if it were not for Bastila.

Even as he thought of her, anger and hate bubbled up in him once more.

"_I curse the day that Bitch saved him! I curse her, may her blood burn out of her flesh!"_ He thought. With a snarl of rage his blade flashed to block a sudden cunning sweep, to turn it into a useless counter slash.

That woman had kept Revan alive a year ago… saved him and supported his old master, as he unknowingly searched for his old apprentice, his right as Lord of the Sith. He had been unaware of what she'd done, until Calo Nord had described Revan word for word. His anger had been so great, that he'd sworn to take Bastila alive and twist her into everything she hated.

Her capture on the_ Leviathan _had been so sweet on his tongue. Revan's face, full of rage and hate as his lover was taken, had burned into Malak's memory forever as the blast doors had slammed in his way, separating Revan from his slut of a Jedi.

Her turning had been surprisingly easy; she had been full of denied passions, fear and hatred. Once he'd pulled them from her, offered her the power she secretly craved, she had pledged herself willingly to him. The look of cold menace had awoken his own desires, for Bastila was beautiful and, before he'd yanked her into the darkness, so virginal and white. Now she was twisted, but her virginity remained. He'd hoped that she would give herself to him in more ways than one… he could have had a lot of fun with her.

Now, the bitch had betrayed him. He'd found out when she didn't return from the Rakatan homeworld alone, that she'd thrown in her lot with Revan. Somehow, probably through the use of her sexual attraction, Bastila had turned Revan to the Dark Side. He still didn't know why, he'd sensed the raw hatred of the Jedi, her actions when she had been turned herself had been tainted by the need for power. He thought it would have been easy for her to simply strike down Revan at the temple, but now she seemed to want to share power with him. A Sith who wanted to share power had never been heard of... he wondered what she was after from Revan.

Just then, Revan made a quick jump forward, catching Malak off guard. Raising his saber to slice Malak upward through the torso, Revan lunged at him. Malak desperately sidestepped, intent on letting his old master fly past him so he could bring his saber against the back of his neck. Revan smiled slyly and to Malak's horror made his planned move. Using the Force to push against his own body, Revan slammed to a halt and ducked under Malak's arm as his blade slashed to where Revan's neck would have been. He twisted slightly and swung a deep horizontal slice across Malak's torso which bit past the cortosis robe and deeply into Malak's flesh. He grinned in victory, as the smell of cauterized flesh filled his nostrils, the wound was lethal, he could tell.

"_Too easy"._ Revan thought as Malak staggered and fell forward. "_Bastila will prove to be more worthy that you ever had, she will be more powerful than you could hope to be. I have her passion and her love; she will never betray me, not like you did, spinelessly_."

The disbelief and despair evident in his electronically filtered voice, Malak looked slowly up at his old master and gurgled in agony.

"Im…Impossible. I cannot be beaten. I…am the Dark Lord of the Sith."

Revan turned towards his former pupil and pulled back his hood. "The Star Forge is mine now, Malak!"

Malak grunted at the statement, simply and calmly given. He wondered how Revan could remain so calm… so detached, at his death. Despite his fall to the dark side… he was different somehow.

"You are so pathetic." Revan leaned close and picked up Malak's fallen lightsabre. "Now the Sith are mine and Bastila's, and she will be far more worthy than you."

Malak looked up at Revan. He was somewhat surprised at seeing a relatively normal looking face staring at him. There were a few bulging vanes along his cheek, but his skin tone and eyes still looked normal, not like Malak had known Revan before; Sickly gray skin, gleaming red hued eyes. Yet; there was no denying that Revan was much stronger now than he had been back then… but how was this possible?

Malak gathered his final strength and in a show of submission, nodded at his victor.

"Yes. I cannot deny it any longer. You are the one who deserves…who deserves to be the Dark Lord." He stated simply. "You were the one who found the first Star Map on Dantooine, Revan, and it was you who led us on our quest for the Star Forge. I only followed in your wake. I tried to usurp your rule, to steal the title of Sith Master from you. But now I understand; the destiny is yours Revan. Not mine. You…you are Darth Revan, Lord…Lord of the Sith. And I…I am nothing."

Again, Revan just looked at Malak with cold, hard eyes and spoke in that chilling calm voice. "The apprentice has learned his final lesson."

Malak grinned, blood slipping past his gritted lips, as he felt the damage Revan had caused with his blade beginning to slip past his ability to heal. The pain had dulled to a faint burning and he could feel the dark side reaching for him with its black chasm.

"And so it ends. As I somehow almost knew it must…In darkness." He murmured at Revan, his eyes blinking at the sight of his old master calmly standing and watching him die. With a grunt, he fell forwards… to the blackness that desired to consume him.

"No, Malak." Revan hissed as his old apprentice fell forward. "You have much to pay for yet. Bastila needs vengeance to sate her dark soul before I bed her. I want her to be mine, to beg and plead for me to satisfy her and that, I shall accomplish with you!"

Revan felt Malak's life leaving him and, with a contemptuous flick of his wrist, reached out with the dark side. The raw energies of the Star Forge coalesced around Malak, keeping him from dying. At the same time, however, they spared Revan having to bother to touch Malak's feeble mind himself.

He turned his head slightly, reaching out through the Force, and he quickly found her in the Force, her aura swirling with the tainted energies of the dark side. She was finishing off the Republic Fleet with her Battle Meditation, indulging herself by smashing hundreds of snub fighters into the hull of Admiral Forn Dodonna's flagship. Revan himself could feel the Admiral's aura in the force; it was weak and flickered, maybe due to a lethal wound. The battle was all but won; and he had something of far more importance he wanted her to see.

"_Bastila." _He sent through the bond between them.

"_Yes Revan? Is… is Malak dead?"_ As he touched her mind he felt the passion welling up inside him and inside her as well. Her soul burned with anger, hatred, and the need for vengeance. It made him hungry to taste her, to revel in the power of her tainted soul as they indulged in physical pleasure.

But, there was something else… something that her anger was keeping at bay, something that would need to be freed if she would ever become more than merely a Dark Jedi, to become his equal in the Sith, to become his Dark Lady. It had been known before, when two had been in love, for a Sith union and sharing of power. However, most had destroyed themselves out of petty greed and lust for power. None had what he and Bastila shared. To strike him down was to kill her; she knew this as much as he. He also knew that she was capable of sharing power with him in her heart, but he needed her to let all of her emotions flow free, not just anger and hate, to allow her to transcend those base emotions and revel in the glory of power.

"_Come up to the observation deck Bastila, I have something for you."_ He said, feeling her curiosity as she slipped away from meditation and strode to the doorway. "_I have a little gift, which I think you'll like_."

An eerie quiet was present on the observation deck, the battle over, nothing was flashing outside the view-ports as she exited the corridor leading from the elevator onto the observation deck itself. She paused briefly and took in the sight, a sight that puzzled her almost as much as it pleased her.

She saw Revan standing before Malak who was struggling to get up from the floor, obviously wounded, mortally indeed and yet still, strangely alive. "_Good, I get to watch him die,"_ she thought, hatred and utter contempt for Malak bubbling up inside her. _"I only hope that Revan makes it slow and painful, so that I might savour the moment." _A smile crept upon her lips as she strode forward -- the smile of a victor.

Revan was standing off to the side and barely turned his head as Bastila approached, he didn't need to see her, he could feel her presence, and…all of her dark emotions. He let out a small, almost inaudible sigh; it was absolutely intoxicating. The way she moved, the way her dark robes perfectly outlined her athletic form. Before; during their assault on the Star Forge he had been too busy fighting Malak's foolish loyalists to actually probe Bastila. But now, as the battle was over, he found himself having to struggle to keep himself from running to her. "_Not yet."_ He thought to himself, being careful not to let Bastila sense his thoughts through their bond.

Besides, he wanted to see this…

As Bastila walked forward, Malak finally managed to hoist himself up into the same kneeling position he had assumed before.

"_So, you little Witch! Have you come to see me die laying face down? I won't give you the satisfaction." _Malak thought bitterly, wishing he still had his lightsabre, even in his weakened state he was sure that he would've been able to throw it at Bastila's head. He hated her, with every fibre of his being, cursing himself for having been so obsessed with Revan. _"I should have just killed you both on the Leviathan. Then I would still be the Dark Lord!"_ he thought as he glanced from her to Revan, who was, to Malak's surprise merely standing there, silent; _"Not going to boast of your victory, Revan?"_

Blood slowly creeping up beneath his mechanical jaw, he glanced over at Revan:

"If you are wise you will kill her now, she is much too ambitious for you. She will always claim loyalty but in the end, she will just join up with the next dark Jedi that comes along." Malak almost spat, determined to let Revan know the truth about the treacherous harlot.

"You should have heard her. Always willing and submissive, so eager to please." He managed to sputter, despite the pain each word brought him, his last revenge at least bringing him some small measure of satisfaction. "You should have seen the way she grovelled before me, like a little…"

"SILENCE!!!" Bastila roared out into the vast chamber, her face full of anger and hate, her very persona ebbing with darkness. "You pathetic fool!" she spat at Malak. Did he actually think that she had ever followed him?

She looked down at him, her emotions again bubbling up to the surface. She would show him just how weak and pathetic he was, how he was nothing when compared to Revan. _"I'm going to enjoy this!"_

"You have no idea what's going on here do you?" She asked Malak, bitter amusement tainting her voice. "You were too busy boasting about your so-called power that you failed to see what was right in front of you." She smiled viciously as she saw Malak's face take on a confused expression, pure sadistic pleasure dominating her beautiful turquoise eyes.

"Did you actually think that I would ever be loyal to a foolish brute like you? All I've ever wanted was to kill you!" She paused, almost as if to catch her breath, letting her anger run free, embracing the power it brought her. "Oh, how I remember how you went on and on about me tasting the dark side in the temple." Her voice took on an amused tone, and desire began to flow inside her as she recalled when she had truly tasted it, as she looked down at the broken, former Sith Lord. "What you didn't realize was that I have tasted far greater!" she hissed, her body and mind filling with just one word, one name. _"Revan." _

She almost trembled as she thought of the last time they had been together. The last time he had touched her and she him. How their lips had met and how they had both known at that moment, that they were destined for each other. It was all she could think about, she wanted to feel…alive again, she wanted him to touch her again, and she was willing to crush anyone who stood between Revan and herself.

Revan, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly spoke. "He does not understand Bastila." She slowly turned her head to look at him, her eyes filled with darkness. "He does not understand why you would bother to turn me, when you could just join him." His voice was smooth and inviting to her, for Malak it was tainted with amused desire.

Bastila whirled around to face Revan, her eyes changing from being filled with anger, they had a wild look to them as she looked into his; her emotional control shattered, she had only one thing in mind as the passion welled up inside her began to flow forward.

"Then I shall show him!" She said, her face an image of desire, her voice dripping with that same passion as she rushed at Revan. He merely stood there, making no move to defend himself.

Bastila threw her arms around Revan, pulled him tight against her body, and pushed her lips tightly against his; he readily reciprocated as the two of them were lost to their passions, the bond between them amplifying every sensation, every touch. She ran her hands up his back, and shivered as he did likewise, her mind only filled with one sentence. _"I want him…now! I'm sick of waiting, he is mine!"_

Revan felt it too, trying his best not to let himself be utterly swept away by the passions and love between them, as he hungrily tasted her, almost as hungrily as she did him; _"You always were eager, Bastila." _He thought as she slid her hands down onto his lower body, taking in all that was her, the touch of her fingers, the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips.

But, utterly perfect as this moment was, he had to end it. If he let her go on for much longer he was quite sure that he wouldn't be able stop her from forcing her way with him, and it would not be appropriate here.

So, focusing on the reason he had called her here, Revan gently but firmly started to pull away from her, she was very reluctant to let him do so, but finally acquiesced.

"_Though not by much."_ Revan thought as he looked into her eyes, feeling her beautifully tainted aura through the Force, as she forced a single word, a single emotion through their bond. _"More!"_

Revan smiled as he looked at her slightly shocked, he had never seen this side of her before, and he found it very appealing. _"Soon enough."_ He sent through the bond. _"In the meantime, I still have that gift for you."_

She let out a small sigh as she struggled to calm herself, before looking into his eyes; "What did you call me here for?" she said as she caressed his cheek with her hand.

Malak felt sick as he watched them, he should have known. How could he not have sensed it in Bastila during her torture? Her words from a moment ago still taunting him.

"_You were to busy boasting about your so-called power, that you failed to see what was right in front of you." _

He had his answer. So, Bastila had used her sexuality to lure Revan, but that had only been a part of the whole. She was in love with him, and he with her. So this was what motivated her anger and hatred of the Jedi…

_She can't stand the thought of someone taking him from her. That was why she turned on me, I was no better than the Jedi to her. I took Revan from her, and that earned me her ire, even more so than when she merely wanted to stop me for the good of the Galaxy. It would almost be amusing, if it hadn't let me to this._

He tried to call forth his own anger, only to find that it did little for him. He was broken, defeated and he suspected that he would be dead soon. Fear slowly began to creep into his mind as he looked upon Revan and Bastila.

"I called you here to allow you the chance to be free." Revan was saying. "You are strong Bastila, but that strength is not enough. Right now you're full of anger and hate, but you must let all of your emotions flow." He paused, sensing her puzzlement; "Anger and hate are powerful emotions, true, but eventually they will impair your judgment, make you vulnerable."

"_And, if you are ever to truly become more than another dark Jedi in terms of strength… if you are to become the Dark Lady of the Sith, you must be willing to transcend mere anger. You must realize that perfection is mastering all of your emotions, and dealing with them accordingly." _The thought remained private; she was not ready to hear it yet.

"You need to embrace you anger at…recent events and be done with it!" He turned her around to face Malak.

"I believe he carries a great deal of your animosity, correct?" Revan asked in a neutral tone, lowering his face so that his lips were but millimetres from her ear, he could feel her body revel in his proximity, her eyes became eager, almost as eager as they had been at the temple when she had turned him.

_Soon._ He mused. _Soon we will be able to fully embrace our intertwined destiny, and no one will be able to oppose us!_

Revan gestured towards the fallen Malak as he almost casually whispered the words into Bastila's ear. "Now you can…work out you anger. I give him to you. Do what you will with him…"

Her face lit up as the meaning of what Revan was giving her became clear; once she was free of her anger she could turn her attention to what really mattered…her passions… her love for Revan, she knew he felt it too. Together they would shape the Sith to their will, and anyone foolish enough to stand against them would be crushed!

She wetted her lips and turned towards Revan again, stepping close to him and pulling his face to her own as she again kissed him passionately.

"_When this is over…" _she sent through the bond, pulling slightly away as she stared penetratingly into his eyes and savoured the faint taste of his lips. _"Then no more samples, no more tastes. I want it all! _

_When this is over, I want you to pledge yourself to me, I want to you to sate my hunger! And I can assure you…I have quite an appetite!" _

She turned and stalked towards Malak, drawing her lightsabre, savouring the fear evident in Malak's eyes.

"So… you say it took you a week to break me? Well, let us see how long I can keep you alive while I show you the true power of the Force!" Her voice was cold and hard as she continued, a predatory smile slowly creeping across her face as she spoke. "Oh, you won't die…at least not until I am satisfied."

She thrust out her left arm, grabbing Malak with the Force and hanging him suspended in the air, her smile growing wider as she watched him flop around like a Firaxan out of the water.

Deciding to use her sabre at first, Bastila lunged forward, her crimson blades making deep cuts on Malak's limbs.

She threw back her head and laughed viciously as Malak screamed out in pain. "You truly are pathetic Malak, a few cuts and you cry out like a small child." Bastila snarled suddenly, making a contemptuous motion with her wrist. The dark side responded to her bidding, forcing Malak's wounds further and further apart until finally, his left leg-bone shattered under her assault.

She called the Dark Side to her again, this time shattering Malak's right arm, then proceeding to the remaining arm and leg. She grinned at each scream, savouring the sound as Malak's electronically filtered voice grew in intensity with each limb she took, until finally his voice was drained.

Blood flowed from the now open wounds on his arms and legs, steadily flowing onto the metal grated floor of the Star Forge's viewing platform.

"Well now…" Bastila continued "We can't have you losing consciousness due to blood loss now, can we?" Before Malak could even respond, she lowered him slightly from her telekinetic grip, and then walked up to the broken "Sith Lord".

_How _dare _he usurp that title! It's _Revan's_ and his alone! And it will be my pleasure to aid in his reclamation of it. _She shot Malak a fiery glare, and then in a slow and precise gesture held her lightsabre blade up against each of Malak's flowing wounds in turn.

_I didn't think the fool could scream any louder!_ Bastila sighed mentally as her searing hot blade cauterized each of the bleeding appendages. Most of the lower parts of the arms and legs were still hanging on by the flesh, the bones completely shattered by her Force attack. She decided she'd tired of watching them flap, and just cut them off.

She continued like this, inducing the most terrible pains to her former torturer, the darkness inside her swelling to enormous proportions as she let all her forbidden and twisted desires loose. Revenge drove her, and it was a terrible sight for any to see.

Revan, still standing off to the side, arms folded across his chest in contemplation, merely tuned out Malak's screams after the first hour. He had heard it all before, after all when he'd taken Malak's jaw after the fool had disobeyed him once. Or so the memories retrieved from HK-47 would suggest. Besides, he was far more interested in Bastila… her aura swelling with darkness with each stroke, each Force attack. Her every dark thought... all of her hatred and need for vengeance spilling forward uncontrollably.

_"I knew she wanted vengeance, which she'd need to have satisfied._ _But this is beyond anything I had imagined." _

The only reason Malak wasn't dead yet, was of course that Revan was still letting the Star Forge keep him alive, if he'd just let him die, Bastila wouldn't be satisfied, and he needed her to be, for his reign of the Sith to be complete. With his usual subtlety, he was just keeping himself aware of Bastila's aura and the darkness flowing from her. It was building, soon it would culminate, and at that point Malak had to die! Bastila would swing her blade and Malak, her greatest fear would die. The moment was quickly approaching. He realized the time was right as Bastila launched herself at Malak with renewed fury when the fool uttered. "Mercy."

Bastila released her grip on Malak, or rather what was left of him, and as he crumpled to the floor, she stood there…towering over his broken body. She raised her sabre over her head, the red glow lighting her eager expression, preparing for the final strike. Revan could feel the darkness boiling inside her, and as she thrust down her sabre she let out a snarling roar, an expression of pure hatred on her face. The only sound was the hiss of cauterizing flesh as Malak writhed for the last time on a beam of pure energy. As he felt his old apprentice slip into the darkness, Revan released the Star Forge's hold on his old apprentice.

Malak, the last tie to his old life fell and, as his body collapsed to the floor, the room seemed to shake with power. Bastila's dark aura seemed to compress infinitely, and with a violent concussing force, it exploded outwards and away from her as her anger and her vengeance were fulfilled. It radiated from her, into the surrounding chamber reverberating off the walls and echoing around the Forges vast bays, making every Sith look up in awed horror. Even to someone as strong in the Force as Revan, the experience was almost overwhelming. It was as if she was being transformed.... A Denebian butterfly just emerging from its cocoon.

When the waves of Force energy had subsided, Revan cautiously opened himself to the Force and when he felt Bastila's aura, he was genuinely shocked. Most dark Jedi were boiling with raw, uncontrolled emotion, a red haze where control was lost to the whim of the dark side, as Bastila had been mere moments ago when rage had almost consumed her being.

But not now…It was as if she transcended light or dark. As if her aura were a combination of all aspects of the Force, light, darkness and all in between. Almost like the colours of a rainbow. A dark rainbow, filled with blood-red, dark purple, night sky blue, fiery orange…She turned, and looked at him, her beautiful turquoise eyes filled with passion. As she gazed at him, a slight smile graced her lips as she sought him through the bond. He could feel her reaching for him and despite his usual caution he let all his emotional defences drop. It would have been futile to resist her anyway, she'd had always had a way of getting into his mind.

_"Never without your consent, Revan."_ Her words echoed through his mind as he felt her mingle her own Force aura with his, completing their joining. He'd never felt anything like it. Words, ideas, emotions all coming together as a whole, connecting them so deeply that they almost became a single being. He felt everything she felt... her determination, drive, passions and far more.

"_I wish to show you something Revan" _Bastila thought at him, even as she lead his presence deeper into her own, to a place that held the one thing she treasured most of all... the single thing that mattered more than anything else to her. Revan marvelled, all of a sudden he found himself standing over a pool, a symbolization of the currents that were Bastila… "_Look into the water"_ she beckoned and cautiously, Revan looked, seeing the waves flow freely and then… it settled. The waves calmed and the surface of the water became clear, as clear as glass, and as he continued looking into it he saw… his own reflection.

_So it wasn't just a ploy at the temple… _He couldn't help but smile and, as he looked up, the vision faded and he found himself back on the Star Forge.

There she stood. Her skin, white and beautiful as marble, her eyes... deeper and far bluer than any of the oceans of Manaan. Revan tried to keep his composure, but found himself loosing the struggle at the sight of his new apprentice.

The Sith and the Star Forge would have made worthy prizes. Any dark Jedi would be overjoyed at the power they could offer, but not him. The Star Forge was a tool, nothing else. A powerful tool, to be sure, but nonetheless a tool. The woman who stood before him, she was his destiny, he was sure of it. It could not have been a coincidence that it was she who had saved him from Malak, she who had broken the Jedi's hold on him and helped him retake his empire.

_No… _Revan thought._ Our empire!_

There was no longer any doubt in his mind. He'd sensed it after she'd killed Malak. Now, as she stood reborn he knew there was no other place for her than by his side. Not as apprentice, or pleasure toy. She was indeed his equal and as such there was only one title he could think of that would suit her... His Dark Lady of the Sith.

She walked toward him, and he felt his heart beating faster. He knew what she wanted; she'd made that quite clear before. He held out his hand toward her and, in a low calm voice, whispered. "Come Bastila, we have an Empire to build."

As she took his hand, he started slightly. Her touch was electrifying, and he realized she was feeding him emotions through the bond, her own. Unable to hold himself back any further, he led her to the elevator. As she moved to step aside and let her Master pass into the lift first, Revan grinned and nudged her back so that she toppled with a slight intake of breath into the lift. She would never be second to him again. Now, she was equal in all things.

Together, as she attempted to gather her composure and he fight his desire for her, they headed for the docking bay.

"The Sith Masters will most likely object to our union Bastila" Revan said as they stood in the elevator car, having slightly regained his composure. A contemptuous sound escaped his lips, and his face mirrored that sound as he spoke. "Fools, they claim to be free to do what they wish, but they're just as bound to ancient traditions as the Jedi!"

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated his words and with a sudden brisk nod looked at him in reluctance.

"Then perhaps we should hold off the announcement" Bastila spoke slowly and thoughtfully. The brashness she once had, gone. "Let them think that you have ousted Malak and have taken me as your apprentice. All who know about what really happened in the Temple are dead. So, no one will be able to tell what really happened there. Then, we summon them to convocation. That is the perfect excuse to have them all gathered in a large room, a hall preferably…."

"And then we announce that I have taken you as my Dark Lady" Revan finished the sentence, his face thoughtful as he pondered her suggestion.

"Of course, there will be some who will object. However…" Bastila reached down and padded the hilt of her lightsabre and a cruel expression passed across her face. "I'll have their heads, and feed their Force essence to this station! I almost lost you once, Revan; never again! I am not about to let foolish old men, stuck in pathetic codes that deny the power of passion, to come between us. I will crush them all before I let that happen!"

"My, my, Bastila…"Revan said teasingly, gazing at her flushed face. "I never knew you had such a devious side to you."

At this, Bastila slowly turned and leaned in to whisper in Revan's ear.

"There are many of my sides you haven't seen yet," She felt him tremble slightly as she slowly ran her tongue sensuously over the lobe of his ear and then nibbled it slightly. "But I'll take pleasure in showing you." She pulled back, and couldn't hold back a smile as she saw Revan's expression. "After we deal with the matter at hand, however."

The door opened and they walked out onto the docking bay. A vast sterile chamber, its walls were lined with illumination panels. Several openings into deep space were clearly visible, as were the hundreds of Sith Fighters, lined up ready for deployment. Even more hung from the scaffolding in the roof of the hangar, only accessible to the crew by the way of gantries and turbolifts.

Parked further down were the heavy assault ships. Large, bulky craft with minimal manoeuvrability, sacrificed for the sake of cargo space for delivering heavy armour to planetary surfaces. The hangar was mostly empty, seeing as the Star Forge was mainly automated, and most of the Sith personnel had been assigned to the various warships.

Together, they opted for a two-person shuttle. With the Republic fleet destroyed and the call put out to the Sith fleet that there would be a ceremony at the Temple announcing Darth Revan's return, courtesy of Canderous Ordo, the small craft would have no trouble making it to the planet. Already, they could see the shuttles departing from the various warships. Soldiers, commanders and dark Jedi preparing for the assembly to welcome back their Dark Lord, or to foolishly try and deny him his right.

Revan spotted an equipment replicator over by the wall and headed over to it while Bastila prepared the ship for launch. The terminal came to life as he approached, the Star Forge responding to his Force aura. He looked through the program…until he'd finally found the design he wanted, and started the manufacturing process. The Star Forge, feeding of the dark side and the Rakatan sun, had the item prepared almost instantly. Revan took it, and headed over to the shuttle where he quickly deposited the item in the cargo hold before heading up to the cockpit to join Bastila.

He felt her eyes upon him, even before he stepped though the doorway, her aura still filled with hunger, but controlled for the moment. He smiled slightly as he leaned in and kissed her. He felt her slide her arms around his neck and for awhile it seemed as though time had stopped. When she eventually pulled back, and had seated herself in the pilot's chair, Revan spoke. "Now, my love…our destiny awaits."

The ship hurdled out into space and towards the planet below…

_To be continued…_


	2. Shadow's Kiss part 2: Dark Desires

Shadow's Kiss

Chapter 2: Dark desires

Darth Revan stood atop the Rakatan Temple, his dark robes a striking contrast to the grey stones of the ancient construct, cape flaring in the evening breeze.

_I have everything, _he thought, slightly puzzled, _Everything! Now I only need for the Sith to accept the changes I've made and my triumph will be complete!_ A streak of regret slipped into his mind. _Still,_ _I wouldn't be here if not for her I'd either be dead or forever a slave to the Jedi if not for her. But a Sith Lord is not supposed to feel love, especially towards his apprentice. According to tradition, it is her duty to learn what she can from me, and then kill me when she feels she is ready. _He shivered slightly at the thought, knowing he'd never be able to raise his weapon against her. _No! It will not come to pass. I know she feels the same as I._

The puzzlement and slight despair gave way to cold, hard determination. He looked up, his mask off but his hood still up. _The bond we share gives us greater strength than any Sith before; we've both felt it. We belong together, of that there is no doubt! I will never have anyone dictate to me what I can and can't feel about her. Not the Sith, and most certainly not the Jedi. I will be the Dark Lord, and she will be my Dark Lady. It is our destiny!_

Confidence restored, Revan turned his attention once again to the scenic view. It was quiet here. The troops that had been present for his and Bastila's triumphant return had returned quickly to their duties, and, for the moment, he could claim the meditative peace of the Temple for himself.

He looked out across the ocean and smiled. The dull yellow glow of the sun descended majestically on the horizon; as he watched, it slowly began to change colour to a dull bloody red. Shaking his head, he could only agree with nature, a perfect symbol to the beginning of his rule.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Revan didn't notice the lithe, black-clad figure slowly creeping towards him from the corridor, masking its Force essence with the skills of a Master. Revan didn't have any warning as the figure stepped up behind him.

He smiled as he felt Bastila slide her arms gently around his waist. His heart beat with increased vigour at the sudden proximity of her smooth flesh. Unable to help himself, he sighed as her presence in the Force slipped into place as she revealed herself to him. Normally he'd be furious at her for doing something like this, but he found her presence soothing. _Another un-Sith like trait, _he thought with a hint of bitterness.

Bastila slid around him, her movements seductive and feline. The dark robes he'd replicated for her on the Star Forge clung to her curves like water, making her a dark and beautiful sight. Similar in style, but less elaborate than his, they enhanced her regal appearance. They were powerful protection in combat, while at the same time not hindering her movements. As a consequence, her fighting abilities remained implacable.

She wore her hood down most of the time now, letting people gaze at her cold, almost porcelain beauty that inexorably intrigued most men, more specifically foolish dark Jedi with dreams of grandeur. It had only been a few days since the parade, and while Revan had been occupied with making the Temple a viable command post, Bastila had told him that she had already been approached by a dark Jedi seeking to help her topple Revan in return for the position as her apprentice. The fool had apparently even tried to use the Force to persuade her, but it had been he who had ended up spilling all his secrets before he had met his painful demise. Revan allowed himself a smile at the memory; all beings, males in particular, were utterly helpless when she pinned them under her icy, merciless gaze.

Part of Revan was very thankful that she never looked at him like that. Whenever she looked at him, he felt that she could see right through him, and possibly she could. There was, however, never any malevolence, no hatred in her gaze—just burning passions, tempered by Revan's own. When she spoke; her voice was as smooth and sweet as honey, as it was most of the time they spent alone together.

"Revan, my _love_." She always emphasized _love_ when she was with him, always. "You and I, we _are_ the Sith and I intend to stay true to my word!" Her voice took on a menacing tone. "I _will_ crush anyone foolish enough to try to prevent us from being together as we choose to be!"

He wasn't surprised that she knew what he'd been thinking. Ever since the death of Malak at Bastila's hands the bond between them had been growing steadily stronger. In a strange sort of way, he found it comforting knowing that she'd always be there.

Revan leaned into her and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And how do you want to be together, my Dark Lady?"

It was a question he already knew the answer to, though he didn't expect such a swift response. Bastila had been rather shy during their travels and sometimes he forgot how much she'd changed. So, he was caught slightly off guard when Bastila, in one swift motion, pulled back his hood and fastened her lips tightly against his. He gasped as he felt her hungry, searching tongue slip into his mouth.

"_You continue to try to play games with me, Revan,"_ she sent through the bond, her mental voice filled with dark passions as the words echoed though Revan's mind. "_You should be punished… severely punished!"_

Revan started slightly as her hands moved across his body, especially as she knew exactly where to caress. Every fibre of her being radiated passion, and there was no mistaking the command in her voice when she spoke again, her voice low and seductive.

"Take me to bed… my Dark Lord."

The Temple had a small living area that had been scarcely used, but Revan had set up quarters there. It was quiet and out of the way of meddlers, and that was vital for the moment. He didn't want anyone to know of his special relationship with Bastila… not yet. So, whenever others were nearby, they always donned the Master/Apprentice disguise, though both of them loathed it.

So now they walked according to the old Sith tradition, Bastila with her head bowed a pace or two behind Revan. They were careful to draw no attention to themselves as they walked through the ancient stone corridors, occasionally passing an awed guard, or a respectful, slightly envious dark Jedi. Eventually, they reached the living quarters, and Revan opened the door.

He'd gotten barely five steps into the room before he heard the door slam slut and lock behind him. Before he could even turn, Bastila was on him, using her momentum to push him down onto the chamber's bed. He twisted as he fell, and felt the mattress beneath the soft fabric slam into his back, but his eyes fixed on Bastila, on her body. She started to disrobe; smooth white flesh, slightly pink, yet pale, slipped into view. Her hair tumbled down her back in a long brown waterfall that he yearned to part, to fist in his hands, her stomach smooth and firm, that he wanted to run his lips along and slowly slide down. She was, as he always had known, his goddess.

Grinning, Bastila stepped forward, slowly leaning down towards him. She reached out and gripped the black fabric of his own robes, pulling him to his feet. It didn't take her long to relieve him of his armour, nor of his pants or undergarments. Revan shuddered at the feel of her body heat so close to his. Naked, he growled as she slipped into his body space, turning so her back touched against his stomach. Unable to help himself, he slid his hands along the curve, tracing her body, hearing her gasp as he did so.

With a sudden, forceful motion, he span her around, only to stop as he saw the longing smile on her face. He could feel the passion in her soul; see the burning desire in her eyes. She pushed him gently, so he fell back once more onto the soft covers of the bed and felt the coolness of rare Bis silk on his skin. He sighed with pleasure as she straddled him, her thighs tightening on his waist.

She leaned down towards his face slowly, her free-flowing hair making her seem ever more like a siren of Pendaura. Revan could feel the slight brushes of her hair against his chest, the sweet smell of her almost overwhelming his senses. There wasn't much light in the room, but her marble skin stood out against the darkness. She seemed to glow, as did her Force aura, and he shivered as she traced her lips across his chest, kissing every inch.

He tried to move, wanted to, so he could kiss her back, but she had him completely pinned. Her legs remained wrapped firmly around his waist, preventing him from rising much. She picked up his movement and flashed him a predatory smile as she moved her face up just a few centimetres from his. He could feel her warm breath on his face as she spoke.

"You're mine now, Revan…"

Revan managed to lift his arms, and, just as she began to slip down his chest once more, he reached up and cupped her face in his hands. She frowned, not sure of his intentions. He let her hang in uncertainty for just a moment, ever playing his slight mind games, until he spoke the words that made her tremble with desire.

"Forever, my Lady, forever."

That was all she needed. Exhaling sharply, Bastila gripped his hands and led their strong, smooth fingers down her graciously formed body. With a sudden renewed fury, she planted her hands firmly on Revan's shoulders, and with a motion of her hips that made them both gasp in pleasure, he was utterly hers…

When he awoke later, his body relaxed yet aching from the previous night's passion, he looked at her sleeping face. "_She looks…peaceful."_ He allowed himself a crooked, almost boyish grin. _"She wasn't peaceful a few hours ago."_

He sighed longingly. It was difficult; he'd lost most of his adult life due to Malak's betrayal and the Jedi mind wipe. Now with her next to him, her chest rising and falling slowly, he felt like a green adolescent.

Part of him -- by the Force, all of him! -- wanted to stay with her forever. _I can't allow myself the indulgence…if we stay here too long, someone will notice. I don't want some overeager traditionalist ruining everything!_ he thought fuming, _I'll never give her up… _never!

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. With a sigh, he slowly untangled himself from her smooth, tempting, young body, and began to slide out of bed. A sudden gentle pressure made him pause and look down.

A smooth, shapely leg, sheathed in the fine silk sheets, draped across his lower body. He turned his head slightly and looked straight into Bastila's wide awake face, her dark brown hair spilling over the ruby-coloured sheets, her blue eyes gazing at him with amusement.

With a sad sigh, Revan gently gripped the tantalizing leg, and forced it off his torso. A simultaneous hiss of disappointment escaped Bastila.

He stood and crossed to the spot where his armour still lay after Bastila had nearly torn them off him. He'd managed to don the trousers, and was about to reach for the first armour plate, when a sound from the bed made him turn. He shivered as his heart skipped a beat.

Bastila had shifted her position, and now the thin red sheet draped across her entire stretched body length. The curves of her muscular body were clear and as he watched she stretched with a little whimpering moan of pleasure.

_She is absolutely stunning, _Revan thought, not realizing that a small sigh escaped him as he laid his eyes upon her once more. _She's… perfect._

For some reason, the bond or her own intuition, Bastila turned to gaze at him with her dark blue eyes. Although sated by the previous night's exhausting passion, her eyes flickered over Revan's half dressed form with a hungry desire. Her lips parted slightly as she obviously weighed her own exhaustion against her desire to be touched by him once more.

Slowly, sinuously and purposefully, she moved her legs to lie smoothly along the bed on one side, her arm draped invitingly along her body. Revan, unable to help himself, followed her enticing curves to her face, only to stop at her eyes, once more fixed on him like a Ralltiir Tiger eyeing its prey. She was hypnotic.

Bastila smiled seductively and without a single word she tilted her head. Her eyes burned with renewed desire as she reached out for him through the bond. _"Come here…"_

Revan found himself walking slowly towards her, almost drowning in the depths of her deep blue eyes. With each step, he could feel her hunger growing, the predatory glint in her eyes, the ever so slight wetting of her lips as he approached. He saw how she shifted once more under the sheets as he stepped up to the bed and allowed his eyes to wander across her form once more.

He leaned down and she reached her arms up to embrace him. That was her mistake.

With lightning-fast reflexes, Revan grabbed her hands and forced them over her head. She let out a small yelp and tried to squirm her way out of his grip, only to find that her torso was pinned by his knee beneath the sheets.

Revan grinned slightly. He did care for her, but he needed her to know that she didn't control him. It was a lesson she was clearly not too keen on learning.

He saw her eyes turn dark, determination filling them, as her head lunged forward to kiss him. He held her back down against the bed in response, and her teeth clenched in frustration.

Then; as mist fades before sunlight, the seductive gleam in Bastila's eyes faded, her face turned sad, and Revan saw a tear forming in those smooth blue eyes. She reached out to him through the bond, and he was surprised at how her persona seemed small and scared.

_"Don't… don't you want me?"_ He held her there awhile longer, the smile never once leaving his face. "_D... don't you need me?"_

"_More than anything, my Queen,"_ his mind whispered back to her, "_But you must learn! I am the master, you the apprentice, in the eyes of the Sith. In private, in our unity, we share power absolute. Do not try to manipulate my love, I beg of you. You do not control me, and I do not control you_."

Slowly, she settled. The hunger was still present, but subdued. She was still twitching, trying to find a way to best him, but he was stronger than she. So, when he slowly released his grip on her and took a step back, she shuddered, and leaned out to grip him, a look of need on her face. Revan pulled away, and let out a slight sigh before he spoke.

"We have no time, my love." He shook his head and smiled at her in apology. "As much as I would enjoy staying here with you, touching you, kissing you, taking you... we will be missed."

Bastila hissed in disappointment and shifted slightly for the last time. Her arms gripped the cloth of the bed and she draped it around her naked, sweaty body as she stood to join him.

"Business always comes between us, doesn't it? First the Jedi, now the Sith. I'm sick of it!" She looked him in the eyes, her gaze seemingly going right to the core of his being. "I don't want to have to distance myself from you because of some foolish old men!"

She was getting aggravated again. He could feel it even before she raised her voice. "I didn't endure a week of torments and the prospect of losing you forever, only to have to bow down to a set of archaic rules!" she shouted in anger.

Revan subtly, delicately probed her mental state through the bond, worried for her, then took a step back in shock. She was angry, certainly, yet there was another, unexpected emotion flooding her--despair! That had been the reason for her outburst. Revan sighed. The room was soundproof, no one would hear her, so he decided to allow her this indulgence, this need to vent against those who stood in their way.

_She fears not any Jedi or Sith warrior. She is well aware that she can easily best them. But… she fears losing me, of losing my affection for her. _He looked into her eyes, trying to discern her motives when it hit him. _She would do anything to prove herself to me, to prove our love! If I ask her to raze a world, to take on the High Council of the Jedi Order, to slay an entire Jedi army, she would. All to prove her devotion to me, all to prove her love for me. She would do it._

He could feel his own desires surging again, triggered by this train of thought, and Bastila's proximity to him. The ruby sheets outlined her beautiful body as she looked into his eyes, and he couldn't resist. He leaned toward her and gently pushed his lips against hers. He felt her nip his lips, and her arms slide round to grip him tightly as he kissed her, both of them revelling in the sensations of each other.

Revan groaned and, with difficulty, he pulled his lips from hers. "Patience, Bastila. Soon, all the pieces will be in place, and we shall be able to reveal our true union." He watched as a smile slowly crept across her face. "And on that note, you need a title, a Sith title... preferably an alias."

"Me?" she murmured, her fingers still twined in his hair. "Why?"

Revan grinned. "I can imagine that the Jedi Council will be cautious in telling their dear young Padawans about what happened to their 'Ideal of a Jedi', but soon it will come out. When it does, you must be ready. A Sith name will help put the fear of the Sith into all those who saw you as their hero. That's a strong incentive for many to join the side you now fight for. The shock will add to that." He shook his head. "I have to admit I can't have that leverage myself, much to my dismay. People know too much about me now. My name and my face still strike fear into the Galaxy, but every sentient being knows of me. I am a Sith, and they know how to deal with that. You, Bastila, on the other hand will be the leverage I need to shatter the Republic for good."

"Yes, my love, I can see that. But why the change of name?"

"I'd still prefer it if we didn't go about flaunting your name, at least not in public." He paused as he contemplated, sensing Bastila's growing puzzlement. "Not until we're ready to show those who would fight against us the true dark power of the Force, that which set you free."

"Yes," she murmured, her eyes twinkling with dark delight. "I can see that."

"Besides, the Sith Masters might get suspicious if I call you by your first name," Revan added as he felt just a tingle of his fears slip across the bond to her. He looked at her with renewed determination. "I've come too far to lose you over something that foolish!"

Bastila put her hands on Revan's bare chest, her warmth spreading through his body as she stepped even closer to him. She looked up at him, her turquoise eyes gazing into his soul, even as she spoke the words.

"Darth Shivana." She paused and stared at him as his face slipped into a satisfied smile. "That will be the name with which I shall stand by your side." She paused briefly and her voice took on a tone of cold menace. "And that will be the name that the Jedi will come to fear!"

"Fear you they shall…" Revan paused and Bastila nodded slowly. "Soon all the Sith will bow before Darth Revan and his Queen, Darth Shivana, who shall unite the Sith and rule as one."

He smiled slyly, a smile that she mimicked as she picked up on his train of thought.

"We shall destroy all that would deny us that, my love!" she purred, before leaning into him and pushing her lips against his. _"I am your Queen, you, my Dark Lord. Together, we are invincible!" _The bond carried the words while they were occupied in the kiss.

Revan felt himself drowning in the sensation of her kiss once more, both of them determined to make the moment last as long as it possibly could. When they eventually broke the kiss, they looked each other in the eyes. Both felt the determination and affection pouring through the bond to each other and they shared this moment in pleasure. Finally, Revan turned and strode for his armour, while Bastila retired to the adjoining room to clothe herself.

The planet was called Dosuun, a lush and simple world on the borders of Sith space. Known for its rich mineral deposits and beautiful art, it was, despite the mining facilities that periodically dotted the landscape, very much a tranquil paradise. The mineral deposits were, in fact, the reason why the Republic had devoted a substantial portion of its armed forces to ensuring the safety of Dosuun, as well as the shipping lanes leading into the system.

The political situation had always been precarious. The Dosuunian government, realizing that their proximity to the borders of the old Sith Empire would make them a prime target should the Sith resurface, had politely declined membership into the Republic, fearing for their safety.

The Republic, in an unusually backhanded way, had made a deal with Dosuun. The Republic would place a contingent of warships and all accompanying personnel near the planet. Officially they would be there to 'monitor Sith activity near the border'. Unofficially, those ships would remain to ensure the safety of Dosuun, in exchange for exclusive trading rights.

The arrangement had been in place since the first Sith War with Exar Kun, forty years ago, and the people of Dosuun had become accustomed to it. Dosuun had nothing noticeable in the way of military equipment. A corps of volunteers and several heavy freighters modified with heavy turbolasers were all that remained of a small military, nothing that could stand up to a Sith warship. On this particular day the status quo was broken. The Republic, having suffered enormous losses at the Battle of the Star Forge, had decided that although Dosuun's resources were valuable, the military presence currently positioned there was badly needed elsewhere. Most of all, the ships in orbit around the planet were needed on the frontlines; hence, the order had been given to evacuate all the military personnel currently on Dosuun, along with the fleet.

The planetary government protested, but the Republic had proceeded regardless, leaving Dosuun demoralized and vulnerable. The mineral mines remained, as did the equipment, but now it was all there, naked.

"_Ripe for the picking,"_ Revan thought, as he stood with several Sith commanders in the war room he had set up in the Rakatan Temple. The latest intelligence reports were stating that the Republic withdrawal was nearly 70 complete and that the planet was ripe for conquest.

"I expect that we will be able to control all major population centres within two days' time, milord. The planet has pathetically little in terms of military might. We shall crush them easily. I would suggest orbital bombardment. Easy, vicious and totally demoralizing."

Admiral Vorn Teerad, Saul Karath's former second-in-command, stared at him with obvious delight. Revan shook his head. Where Saul had been a fit and active man, always honing body and mind, Vorn Teerad was not. He was nowhere near as active or fit as his mentor had been. The man was portly, with a heavy face that seemed to embody arrogance.

It was the arrogance that annoyed Revan. The man seemed to care little about collateral damage that his plans would cause. The obvious reason for taking Dosuun, which would be to capture the planetary mining operations as quickly as possible, seemed to elude the Admiral—or at least not register on his arrogant mind.

Ferrying in new equipment to replace the needlessly destroyed machinery would take considerable time. Time Revan didn't have. He needed a symbol of his new rule, he needed it before the Sith convocation where he would finally dispense with the shackles of the Master/Apprentice tradition and sit on the Sith throne with his chosen Queen, and he'd chosen Dosuun for very specific reasons. He decided that it was time to end Teerad's ranting.

"No," Revan said, his voice filtered to a deep and intimidating tone by his mask. He looked over the people assembled in the room and felt their sudden anxiety. "Dosuun shall not be... _crushed,_ as you so eloquently put it, Admiral Teerad. The resources available on that world will benefit the Sith, and I want them intact, not bombarded to pieces." He paused just long enough to see a sneer of contempt strike across the Admiral's face.

"My Lord," Teerad began, "I honestly cannot understand why you wish to go to such length to acquire this world. The Star Forge requires minimal resources; for every ship we lose, three new ones take its place." He paused and looked around at his fellow Admirals. "We even know that the Republic has lost their precious little Jedi Bastila Shan and her vaunted Battle Meditation." Several of the other Admirals around the table were starting to nod at his sentences, ever so slightly, and rightly so: he was the most senior Admiral now that Karath was dead, he had fared well under Lord Malak, and Lord Revan would just have to accept his tactical advice. Admiral Teerad snorted as his tirade ended.

Obviously, it had worked, as Revan just stood there, unmoving, the mask staring at him quietly. Not a single word was uttered from the Dark Lord, and Admiral Teerad sat back in his chair with satisfaction.

A sudden sensation on his shoulders made him jump slightly, only to have his body forcefully pushed back into the chair with smooth, steely power. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing nothing… he could have sworn that he'd felt a pair of soft hands pressing him down.

"My Master grows tired of your ranting Admiral Teerad," an icy female voice murmured in his ear. Again, he looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing. "If this continues and you do not listen to his superior tactical skills… well, I may have to rid the Sith of a useless chunk of male flesh." Again, Teerad looked around seeing nothing. _It's in my head._

Until he could suddenly _feel_ a presence, as if someone were holding a weapon against his flesh. The voice came again. "Do you have any objections to my Master giving you instructions?"

Teerad felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead and he managed to shake his head ever so slightly. "Goood, I am so pleased." The female voice left his ear and the pressure on his shoulders melted away.

Teerad looked around, trying to get some indication of what had just happened, when he suddenly became aware that Revan was speaking to him, and the other Admirals were staring at him.

"Admiral Teerad, is something wrong?" the Dark Lord demanded, tapping a finger against the table.

Teerad tried to gather himself, but couldn't keep the stutter out of his voice as he replied, "I… no, of course not."

The Dark Lord's mask was as impassive as ever, but Teerad could swear that it was laughing at him when Revan spoke.

"I see. Well, if you've quite finished staring into thin air, we can continue..."

Teerad was still trying to regain his composure when the door to the war room opened, and he suddenly felt more cold and frightened than ever before:

The woman who entered was young, her dark robes flowing around her as she entered the room. Dark red armour plates on her chest and arms matched her every regal move, her strikingly beautiful face, framed by auburn hair arranged with twin pony-tails in the back caught Teerad's attention, and even managed to awake a part of him that he'd long thought gone, until he looked into her turquoise eyes. His blood froze…_the eyes!_ Suddenly he felt as if the presence from a moment ago was back, looking right through him, capable of taking his life on a whim.

The woman paid little attention to the assembled Admirals and addressed Revan.

"I apologize Master. Am I late?"

Teerad felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of her voice, the voice that had just been inside his mind a few moments ago. He had no doubt; it _was_ her. She moved gracefully as she stepped over to stand by the Dark Lord.

"Admiral Teerad, " Revan said. "This is my apprentice, Darth Shivana."

"We've met!" Teerad blurted out with a gasp before he could stop himself. All the other Admirals looked at him in shock over this outburst, but he kept on speaking. "Weren't you the one that Malak…"

The woman's face whirled towards him and her eyes flashed with frozen fire—a coldness mirrored by her voice. "I beg your pardon, Admiral Teerad?"

"Well, you... you're Basti..." he began, choking suddenly as something invisible clasped around his throat.

He looked up and saw her staring back at him, with more menace in her eyes than anything he'd ever seen during his time under Darth Malak, as she leaned down towards him and spoke.

"I find your nature tiring, Admiral. I must admit, I do not see why my Master should be forced to put up with it."

The force around his throat increased, and Teerad let out a whimper as his vision began to go dark from lack of oxygen. The woman didn't pay his distress any heed._ I'm going to die,_ Teerad managed to think with his last bit of consciousness.

"I am Darth Shivana and I have two rules that you should all learn."

She stepped back to gaze at the assembled Admirals and Teerad suddenly fell forward with a choked intake of breath.

"One, never mention Malak's name in my presence, ever again! Two, I will protect my Master and deal harshly with anyone who argues with him without providing solutions."

A collective gulp seemed to emanate from every Admiral in the room. Teerad was somewhat comforted by the fact that he was not the only one visibly frightened by this woman, this… Shivana.

He watched as she casually stepped over to stand to the right of and just behind Revan's chair at the head of the table. The Dark Lord, obviously amused by the collective reaction of the Admirals, let the silence hang in the room just a moment before he spoke.

"Darth Shivana is my right hand. Listen to what she says." Revan paused and let his mask glance around at each of the assembled Admirals in turn; Teerad flinched ever so slightly when the mask gazed at him. "And obey, gentlemen. Disobey and, well, I can be unpleasant. I suggest you do not tax Shivana to demonstrate the various… techniques she has learned from me, lest you share Darth Malak's fate!" The Dark Lord rose from his seat and stepped over to the tactical map before he spoke again. "Is that perfectly clear, gentlemen?"

"Quite clear Lord Revan!" They all spoke as one.

"Good. Admiral Teerad!"

"Yes, my Lord?" Teerad sprang to his feet, snapping to attention. He would have remained seated had he not glanced over at Darth Shivana. She was still standing completely still beside Revan's chair, arms folded across her chest, her eyes glittering with cold malice. He was even more aware of her words now, not wanting to give any indication that he did not have the deepest respect for Revan. With a small sigh, he turned his attention back to the tactical map, just as the Dark Lord resumed his briefing.

"Now, Admiral Teerad, I do have a task to which you might be suited, given your affinity for aggressive tactics." The Dark Lord turned to face him. "Just because I have no intention of causing extreme damage to Dosuun itself does not mean that I am prepared to allow a Republic fleet group to slip through my fingers." He pointed to a spot on the map. "Our spies report that most of the fleet will make a layover here, at the Laasari supply station." The sector map zoomed in to reveal the details of the Laasari system. Revan indicated a spot near the inner part of the system. "The supply base is located here, in high orbit around the fifth planet. It consists of five Class 3 docking platforms, capable of berthing up to cruiser class vessels, as well as the attending accommodation facilities for traders, work crews and so forth." He paused and touched a switch, bringing up several highlighted lanes on the map. "Because Laasari is a binary system, the gravitational forces restrict entry and exits from the system to these two routes." The Dark Lord glared at Teerad through the mask, causing the Admiral to flinch. "The Republic fleet will enter the system in standard convoy formation, single file. I want you to take twelve Destroyers and set an ambush for them."

"M-m-m my Lord." Teerad stuttered. "Twelve Destroyers against an entire Republic fleet detachment?"

"Indeed. I am confident that your tactical abilities will allow you to think up an appropriate strategy." Revan paused, and looked over at his apprentice "Or will I need to send Shivana to accompany you, with her… special skills?"

Teerad swallowed hard before replying. "No, my Lord. I will do you and the Sith proud!"

"I never doubted it," Revan said, any sarcasm that might have been in his voice filtered out by his mask.

"You are dismissed, gentlemen."

The Admirals all rose and bowed as they exited the room, Teerad breathing a sigh of relief once he was out and the door had shut behind him. _Those eyes..._ was the last thing he thought as he moved out to his shuttle.

The door closed behind the last of the Admirals, and Revan found himself alone in the war room with Bastila. She looked at him with a mixture of puzzlement and fury

"Why did you stop me from killing him?" she hissed. "That presumptuous fool deserved no more than the same painful death that Malak received!"

Revan looked at her in amazement. How could she not know?

"You mean, why did I not allow you to arbitrarily execute a senior member of the command staff? One who has several men who are personally loyal to him and his ways, however misguided they may be?" Revan's voice was filled with disgust and it boomed from his mask with a fury that made Bastila flinch slightly. He sighed behind his mask; barely noticeable… at least to anyone else. _She is not the target, nor the source of my frustration,_ he thought, as he cautiously probed the Temple for any indication of other Dark Jedi nearby. When he found none, he reached up to his face, undid the metal clasp, and removed his mask. He looked at Bastila with apology in his eyes as he opened himself to the bond and let her wrap her mind around his, like before.

"_We couldn't kill him here Bastila. It would have caused too many complications, and biased several of the other fleet commanders against me… against us." _He stepped over to her and took her hands in his; they had both removed their gauntlets and savoured this brief physical contact. The bond made it all the more intimate.

"_But…but he'll betray you!" _Bastila's thoughts were mirrored by the anguished look on her face as she squeezed Revan's hand tighter. _"I saw it in his mind, my love; he plans to take his crew and run. I don't understand why you would let a traitor live."_

Revan smiled and leaned slightly into her, felt her body tense and her arms snake around his back as she held him close. _"I suspected that Teerad would attempt something. But people like him never act. Not unless their back is against the wall." _He pulled back slightly to look into her beautiful eyes before continuing. _"What I did was force him against that wall. He _will_ be outnumbered at Laasari. Given his nature, he would either throw all his resources into a pointless frontal assault, or he'd make sure that the crew of his command ship were completely loyal to him… and then run."_

She looked at him in shock, a feeling that sent ripples through the bond _"But if you suspected, then why did you…" _she began.

"_Why did I let him go? Simple, my Queen." _He felt a distinct sense of dark pleasure flow across the bond from her when he addressed her as that.

"_However this plays out, he will be a failure! He will either die on the field of battle, having squandered the lives of his entire Destroyer detachment in a pointless suicide run…"_ Revan let just a slip of his plan into Bastila's mind; but it was enough.

"_Now, when he runs, I will terminate him as a traitor."_ Her aura was swelling with sadistic pleasure at the prospect of being able to silence that fool forever. _"Either way, none of the other commanders will hold him in any regard, and we will have cemented our control over the Sith military."_

"_Precisely." _Unable to restrain himself at the overwhelming flow of emotions, Revan leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. At first it was like kissing a wall, she was not prepared, but then her own dark desires took over and she kissed him back fiercely, her teeth gently biting his upper lip, her arms tightening around his body. He heard her snarl in the back of her throat and suddenly felt a pressure on the back of his leg. Glancing down he saw that Bastila had snaked her own leg around his and was squeezing him close to her; each squeeze matching one of her bites.

"_Not here…"_ he sent at her with regret. _"Not now."_ She pulled back, disappointed, but knowing he was right.

He paused and looked directly into Bastila's eyes. "I assume that you will be able to monitor the situation, and sense his intentions through the Force? You do have the strength, and your Battle Meditation has already taught you how to focus across great distances." He watched a smile creep across her lips. "I trust you will be able to… make an example of the Admiral, when he attempts to flee?"

Her smile grew even colder, and her eyes twinkled with dark thoughts as she spoke in a low growl, like a predator. "It will be my pleasure, Revan."

"In the meantime," Revan stated as he put his mask back on and pushed a button on the conference table, "Dosuun awaits."

The door to the war room opened and a young, muscular, light-haired man entered. He carried himself with an air of confidence, which was to be expected after five years in service to the Sith. Unlike Admiral Teerad, however, this man had no trouble discerning that his loyalty was to the Dark Lord first and foremost, and not to his own agenda. This was evident as he snapped to attention the moment the door closed behind him.

"You summoned me, Lord Revan!" It was not a question; the man's voice was cold and methodical, the voice of a career soldier.

"Commander Amonn, I want you to outfit twenty Destroyers for departure in fifteen hours." Revan took a datapad and handed it to the Commander. "I want the Destroyers packed to breaking point with the items on that list. I shall be leading the fleet myself. Do you understand?"

The Commander saluted Revan with razor-sharp precision. "Yes, my Lord! It will be done!" With a bow, he turned and left the room.

"I still do not understand, Revan," Bastila said once Amonn had left. "Why would you want to load up twenty Destroyers with food and medical supplies before heading into battle?"

Revan glanced at her. "If I am correct, then Dosuun will not be a battleground. I have something they need. And I intend to convince them that the Sith can offer them what the Republic could not." He chuckled; a horrid sound through the mask. "In the end, they'll beg for our help in rebuilding." He clenched his fist and smiled behind the mask as Bastila finally comprehended his plan. "I imagine that the planet's populace is quite anarchistic at the moment; we could offer them stability once again." He felt his lip curve upwards at the thought. "They will join us willingly, and Dosuun's resources will be ours without us even having to fire a turbo laser."

Bastila began to smile as she continued his sentence. "And we strike a blow against the Republic's morale as well. The Senators will insist that Republic ships be posted at the Outer Rim worlds, just to show them that Coruscant hasn't forgotten about them. And they will spread themselves thin in the process."

"Exactly."

"When do we leave?" Bastila asked, her voice eager and her face bright at the subtle genius of Revan's plan.

"_I_ will leave with the fleet in fifteen hours." Revan sighed as he looked at her. "_You_ are going to Korriban," he said as he braced himself.

"_What!_ Why?" The thought flew at him across the bond.

"You need to get the pieces into place for the convocation, Bastila." He paused, trying to get her to see the logic of this. "No one else can go." Frustration crept into his voice. "I cannot simply joyride to Korriban before the convocation. You, on the other hand..." he gestured with his hand toward her. "No one will question that the Dark Lord has sent his apprentice to Korriban to study the ancient Sith secrets buried there. It has been tradition for millennia; we might as well use it… before we dispense with it!"

"But, but Dosuun!" Bastila whispered to him, eyes hurt. "You need me there."

"Bastila, I always need you." Revan reached out and touched her arm. "And I always will. But I can't trust anyone else to get to Korriban."

"I... I." Bastila sighed and Revan saw her shoulders slump ever so slightly. "Very well. I will depart for Korriban."

"Good," Revan's amplified voice softened. "I need you there, Bastila. I can trust you and you alone. Have you forgotten?"

"Revan?" She was puzzled. "Forgotten what?"

"Our guest list comprises some powerful Sith Masters. I'm sure you remember our little discussion about how lightsabres will be left at the door, ours too?"

"Oh," Bastila glanced around the room and then, looking back, nodded. "Yes, my love I do. I remember very well."

"I would like to leave that little detail in the hands of Yuthura Ban. I would very much like to trust her." Revan watched as Bastila's lip curled in slight annoyance. "What?" he asked her.

With lightning speed she stepped right up to him and with a swift gestures undid the metal clasp and removed his mask, her turquoise eyes boring into his chestnut brown ones as she spoke.

"You want to trust her, or you find her attractive?" Bastila demanded, and then rocked back at his sly laughter.

"My sweet Bastila." Revan chuckled and rubbed a thumb across her lower lip gently. "I do believe you're jealous of her!"

Bastila's eyes blazed with icy menace at his words. "If I were jealous, her rotting corpse would be decorating the Grand Hall at the Sith Academy!" Her voice was still neutral, though a slight hint of menace didn't elude Revan's keen senses. "Can she be of use to you, in areas where I can't?"

Revan was usually patient when it came to his love, but this time even he could not hold back his anger as he frowned and spoke in an angry, dark voice. "Did you train at the Sith Academy? Are you familiar with all the students and which of the Sith Masters they favour?" He saw Bastila flinch slightly at his tone, and her expression filled with defiance, but she couldn't find the words, so with his eyes narrowed to almost slits, Revan drove his attack home. "I thought not…" _why am I saying this?_

With a tone that was more snarl than actual speech, Bastila intoned, as fire burned in her eyes, "Do you require trained dancers in your ranks?"

_How dare she!? I'll…What am I thinking? _His expression softened slowly as he spoke in a low, almost inaudible tone…inaudible to anyone except for the person with whom he was joined through the Force. "No dancer could ever be a match for you, my Dark Lady. I love you and you alone." Revan watched her face soften at his tone, at the truth she knew he was telling her. "I have eyes only for you, passion only for you, I... trust you with my life, and I always will."

"So, Ban..."

"Is a means to an end. She runs the Academy, is a powerful Sith. I want her to be an ally, a confidant, and someone I can trust to train the students in our new ideas of the Sith in our coming empire."

"And if she isn't?" Bastila tilted her head and raised a single eyebrow at him. "What would you have me do?"

"There are always teachers there, yearning for promotion. Do I have to say any more?" Bastila grinned viciously and shook her head, but Revan held out a single finger. "But I want you to promise that you will only remove her if truly necessary. I don't want her dead because you dislike her."

"Spoilsport."

"It would be beneath you, my love, and a throwback to Malak's rule." He watched as her eyes flashed. "So, strike only if she is intent on betraying me. Besides, I do have another reason as I said for sending you. You never visited Korriban while we were there, so I think it's time you did."

"Hmmm, you have a valid point. I'm sure there are some trinkets I can find, some rare items to interest us..." Bastila touched his shoulder with a sly grin, her passion heating.

"Bastila, you have changed!" Revan turned to stare at her, and she felt his bemused desire trickle into her. "But that image will keep me going while you're gone."

"I hope so," she whispered and smiled. "Keep you warm at night."

A sudden banging on the door made them both look up.

"Yes?" Revan called, his voice booming once more as he hurriedly put his mask back on. Bastila pulled her hood up, her eyes cooling to the icy gaze that she now habitually wore.

The doors clicked open and a Sith soldier stepped in and saluted. "Lord Revan, the loading of supplies is ten percent complete. Commander Amonn requests the pleasure of your company as we will depart for Dosuun as soon as loading is complete, with your permission."

"Excellent." Revan nodded at the soldier and raised single finger as he turned to leave. "Remind Commander Amonn that the new Sith empire does not punish efficiency or forward thinking. If he has suggestions on matters of tactics or strategy, tell him to feel free to voice them to me." The soldier nodded but Revan wasn't finished. "Also, tell Captain Amonn that excellent work does not go unheeded or unrewarded."

"Yes, Sir!"

"You may go."

"With your permission, my Master," Bastila bowed and Revan felt amused at her inner laughter. "I shall go and select a ship to take me to Korriban."

"Of course, my Apprentice." Revan nodded. "_Take care, my love_," he finished through their bond.

Dosuun, four days later.

"President Malca've!" Arie Malca've looked up from her desk and frowned as her aide, a young Twi'lek called Sert, burst into her office. "They're here, here now!" The young man was a faithful assistant and a trusted confidant. He was well educated and knew the mechanics of politics on Dosuun. And in all the time he'd served as her assistant, never once had she seen him lose his composure. Now… now he was standing before her, exhaustion and fear clearly evident on his face, lekku twitching almost uncontrollably: the Twi'lek equivalent of an anxiety attack. Even now, with Dosuun in near anarchy, and in critical need of food and medical supplies, the situation was dire _Damn the Republic, they claim to protect us, but abandon us altogether when it suits them, _she thought bitterly._ Leaving our planet to rot and decline into chaos. People are looting and the sick have nowhere to go, because half the medical staff were Republic soldiers and they were pulled off-planet despite my pleas that they be allowed to stay._

She'd gone back to her desk after looking out her viewports and constantly seeing the screaming masses below her office roaring for food and medical supplies. She had watched the videofeeds in horror, as the masses had stormed and ransacked the vacated offices of the Republic Embassy, hoping to hoard anything the so-called ally might have left behind. Despite her bitterness, she was at least happy that no Republic personnel had been in the building at the time; she wasn't sure she would've been able to control the masses, and no one deserved to be lynched. She would have cleared the masses, but the planet's scant police force was spread out all over the provinces, putting out brush fires. Though she had made an appeal to her people for civility and order, it seemed her pleas went unanswered. Arie sighed-the planet had been utterly unprepared to deal with chaos of this magnitude.

"Who are?" Arie asked, as her hand scrubbed at her long, silver hair. Her green eyes gazed up at him with a sympathetic look to then and she pursed her lips. "Calm yourself, and try again, Sert."

"The Sith!" Sert panted and Arie felt her blood chill. "They're in orbit now! A Sith Interdictor!"

"I see," Arie whispered and Sert shook his head.

"Ma'am, he's on there!" The Twi'lek yelled, his face pale. "He appeared on my comm and asked to speak with you! That mask, it's horrible, like staring into a droid's face! The voice, oh benevolent Aether... I don't want to die!"

"Sert!" Arie snapped at him, and regretted it almost as fast. He was scared, she shouldn't be angry at him for that. "Who was trying to comm me? What did they want?" Her voice was calm and soothing as she tried to calm her friend.

"Revan! The Dark Lord Revan!" Sert whimpered. "He wants to speak to you, he's waiting on channel three."

Arie felt her blood pool in her stomach, face pale and beads of sweat slip onto her skin. She gazed around, only to see her aides backing out of the room. So, this was how much loyalty her followers would give her.

"I see," She forced her voice to remain soft, yet commanding. _I thought he was dead…_

"Well, I'd better see what he wants."

Reaching forward, with Sert's eyes watching every little move of her fingers, Arie activated her comm pad and flicked it to channel three. With a hiss, the screen flickered to display the familiar bridge of a Sith Interdictor vessel. The man who stared out at her was no mere Admiral, however, which puzzled her—usually the Sith were big on ominous introduction, having their lackeys announce them by their elaborate titles. The man who looked at her, if it was even a man, was completely shrouded by a demonic looking mask , a hood pulled tight around his head, dark robes that seemed to radiate power and intimidation, presumably intentional.

"Yes?"

"Ahh, would I be speaking to President Malca've?" The figure asked her, the voice surprisingly mellow despite the filter. "I asked to be put through to her."

Arie frowned. Where were the threats usually given to her by the Sith?

"Yes, I am President Malca've," she cautiously told the figure as she sighed inwardly. _This is it…they've come to finish what they started. _Dosuun had nothing in terms of a military force, they had been dependent on the Republic for protection, and with them gone, all Arie Malca've felt she could do was to try to ensure that her planet, and her people, didn't suffer any further. Straightening up in her chair, she said in her most diplomatic voice "And, I hereby plead you to spare Dosuun bombardment, whilst we negotiate the terms of our surrender. May I ask to whom I am surrendering?"

"Lord Darth Revan, Madame President." The figure bowed slightly before he continued. "And I feel I should apologise. I realize our arrival here may have further upset your population, but I can assure you, your surrender is quite unnecessary."

Arie felt weak, the exhaustion of the past weeks peaking in this final overwhelming event. She noticed she was not the only one in the room who was acting so, given the reaction of the remaining staff members behind her. Arie managed to keep a diplomatic and business like tone as she replied, "So why have you come, if not to conquer us?"

"I wondered if I could provide some relief aid for you?" Revan's figure gestured once more and the fuzzy figure which had been lurking behind him stepped into view—a commander, who Revan muttered a few words to. He bowed and with a glance at her on the screen, walked out. "I have over two hundred metric tons of food and medical supplies to distribute to you and your people."

"What? Why?"

"The Republic withdrawal has left your planet in near anarchy, you have no significant police force, and your medical staff was dependent on the facilities the Republic installed, and then disassembled and took with them. I…" He stepped back and spread his arms slightly away from his body, "I wish to help you, Madame President".

"You…you do?" Arie felt a tiny tremor of relief, even as her mind screamed to be cautious. "What do you wish in return for the medical supplies and food, then, Lord Revan?"

"I request an audience with you," Revan plainly stated in a tone that certainly didn't sound like a request to Arie.

"I... I need to address my people to prevent further panic," Arie managed, feeling the world begin to slip from under her feet. "Will you let me?"

"I was under the impression that you had already attempted that, and that it had little effect" Revan said in a low tone. Arie barely managed to stop herself from flinching at his discovery of her attempted deceit. _I should have known he'd be aware that. How stupid of me! They've probably been monitoring our transmissions. Now I have to agree, or he will know that I've lied._ "Yes, Lord Revan that is true," she stuttered. "However, I meant it as a courtesy. But you are obviously a busy man, and I wouldn't like to take up more of your time than absolutely necessary." A crude recovery, but it would have to do.

"Ahh, excellent. I shall send a shuttle down; we can hold our talks aboard my vessel."

Arie's heart skipped a beat at the thought of being alone aboard a Sith warship with the Dark Lord of the Sith. "Lord Revan, I would like to invite you to come down and view our planet instead. It is only fitting that we show you hospitality after your journey and gracious offer." Arie said in her most diplomatic voice. _Agree, please agree._

The impassive mask simply stared at her for just a second, then the Dark Lord spoke in an almost casual manner. "Of course, Madame President. That sounds acceptable. I look forward to speaking to you in person. Shall we say in one hour's time?"

Arie, having regained her composure and her diplomatic tone, replied "Of course, Lord Revan. An hour it is, then. Now if you will excuse me, I must prepare for your arrival."

"Very well, Madame President." Revan smoothly bowed once more, and the connection broke off.

Arie sat and stared at the empty monitor for awhile, not sure what to think, much less to say to the aides that had assembled in the room and who had wisely refrained from commenting during her conversation with the Dark Lord. The aides were responsible for much of the daily management of the planet, but they trusted their President. _At least they used to. _Arie mused. _They fear the Sith more than anything, The Republic was our safeguard against them, and now they've gone. We have nothing left._

She sighed heavily before she rose and addressed her aides. "Well? Speak to me, please."

Kaivus Hodar, an elderly man deeply rooted in the politics of Dosuun, stepped forward. "You shouldn't believe him, President. The Sith are liars and butchers. If you let him come here, he will kill you, and most likely all the other members of the government as well, and he'll have his troops take control of the planet."

_And you wouldn't want to have your little powerbase uprooted, would you now, Kaivus? _Arie thought bitterly. Kaivus was an opportunist, and a political vulture. He had been quite opposed to the idea of someone as young as Arie serving as President, but the public had spoken, and their voice was still greater than his. She put on her political stone-face and looked Kaivus dead in the eyes and she spoke in a low voice. "You forget, Kaivus, that Revan could have already done that. Our sensors show nineteen more Interdictor destroyers on the outer edge of the system, more than enough firepower to blow this planet to an inhabitable rock for the next decade." She paused, and noted that Kaivus' shoulders seemed to slump slightly.

"No Kaivus—if he wanted us dead, we would be so already." She took a step back and raised her voice to address all her aides. "You have a right to be afraid, and to voice your opinion. And I am not entirely sure about Lord Revan's motives." She paused to gauge the reaction of her aides, most were still dead-quiet and listening intently to her. "Nevertheless, what he said was correct. We are in dire need of food and medical supplies, and to reject an offer of aid based solely on their source would be madness, given our current predicament." A few of the aides were slowly nodding, giving Arie the encouragement to go on. "I say we let him land. We let him speak, and we listen. If we decide that he has nothing to offer us, then we send him on his way." Her voice was becoming eager; she had always been passionate about trying to do her best for her people. "I won't lie to you, there are risks. But please, let us not reject him outright. Let us give him the chance to speak, as it should be in a democracy. Wouldn't you agree?" She looked around and allowed herself a smile as most of the aides consented, with the exception of Kaivus Hodar and a few of his followers. After a quick vote, Arie was given solitude and the blessing of her cabinet to invite Lord Darth Revan to Dosuun.

Arie sat in the relative calm of her office, having just sent the message to allow Lord Revan to land and now musing about what a Dark Lord of the Sith could want from her. Dosuun itself had resources, true. But Lord Revan had addressed her by name, and seemed to go out of his way to be courteous to her.

_What do you want, Darth Revan… what do you want?_ She threw back her head and let her platinum blonde hair flow downwards. It bothered her to be this indecisive. She usually was able to compose herself and be objective and methodical in her preparations whenever she had to meet with someone important. So why couldn't she focus now? Arie shuddered slightly, something she did not often do. The Sith methods of making people cooperate were well-known. Her hand went to her throat and she rubbed it gently.

A rumble in the distance made Arie glance out her view port in time to see the shadow of a Sith shuttle slowly swim past the windows of her main receiving lounge. _He _was coming. The sound of the shuttle was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of two Sith fighters, flying as escort. For a moment, her heart rate increased even more at the mere sight of the fighters. Their dagger-shaped designs had been created to strike fear into the heart of enemies; she'd seen holovids of endless waves of fighters sweeping down on planets and ships, twin laser-cannons blazing.

The crowd gathered below her window suddenly looked up towards the sky, and at the sight of the Sith ships, a cry went up as people began to run for their lives, trampling all over the once beautiful gardens of the presidential grounds. Arie, helpless to do anything other than hope that no people were crushed beneath the mob, sadly recalled the time of her childhood, how she'd marvelled at the skill of the sculptors and gardeners who had attended to these grounds, seeking beauty and tranquillity in everything. Now… _This chaos doesn't belong here. We are not a violent people. Why can't they see it? I have to restore the peace. I have to help them-and help myself and the planet. We are a planet of artisans, not warriors, we should be cultivated enough to stand together in trying times, not turn into mindless mobs. _Arie shook her head and tried to clear her mind for the coming session; she would need to be on her toes.

The sound shifted, and Arie glanced up to see the two fighters breaking off from their escort and speed upwards towards their carrier in orbit, once again. She took a deep breath and stood, straightening her gown and putting on her most diplomatic face as the doors to her office opened and a dark clad figure stepped through. Black cape flaring behind him, Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith, entered and headed straight for her with long, purposeful strides. Arie quickly dried the sweat from her hands as she offered the traditional Dosuunian greeting which consisted of a bow and an extended hand for the guest to shake.

"Madame President, thank you for having me."

Arie almost started at the sound of his voice. _It's not filtered, _she managed to think, before Lord Revan reached up and pulled back his hood.

Arie, expecting a horrible face, as powerful Sith often had, was slightly stunned at the sight of the handsome, rugged man who held his hand out for her to shake. He was a little scarred, a few hints of stubble, deep brown eyes, but he was a huge change from the masked figure that she had talked to. Shaking herself, Arie reached out and shook his hand. She could feel his intense aura and magnetism.

"Welcome to Dosuun, Lord Revan," Arie whispered and the young man smiled, a confident smile though, not a warm one. There was no sagging grey skin, no damage as far as she could see. Why was he so... normal?

Malak had chilled her to the bone with his constant threats and hateful, bile filled comms. She had seen him as a Sith, to be hated and feared. She vividly recalled how he, frustrated by the Republic's protection of Dosuun, had arranged the kidnappings of family members of several key government members, demanding that Dosuun denounce the Republic, or pay with the lives of the hostages. Arie, after consulting with the commander of the Republic forces, one General Har'nass, had decided not to give in. The day after she'd declared this in an address to the planet, a holorecording had arrived showing, in ghastly detail the deaths of the hostages, some electrified to black husks, others choked to death by sheer force of will, and other even more gruesome deaths even worse than that. She had vowed then to do everything in her power to ensure that her people would never again have to suffer such horrors. Now, with this Sith claiming to be Revan, a Revan who wanted to talk peace, she could only stare at him.

"Madame President?" Revan murmured smoothly, and Arie felt a slight shiver of shock as her knees trembled ever so slightly at the cultured, persuasive, and above all charismatic tones. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Shall we get down to business?" Revan asked Arie and, at her nod, smiled. "Excellent."

Arie, now composed and playing the role of hostess offered Revan refreshments, that he accepted with the diplomatic smoothness that seemed to define all his recent actions.

"Well, Lord Revan. You know the question I must ask you is: 'Why are you here?'"

Revan smiled calmly and Arie's feet shuffled nervously under her desk. _I'm playing a dangerous game, but he won't lull me into a false sense of security. _

"Well, Madame President, I suppose the simplest thing to say would be that I can offer you your future."

_My, my Lord Revan…you do enjoy these little games, don't you?_ "Oh?" Arie asked, whilst trying not to sound as if she were mocking him. Her own diplomatic sense had always kept her on her toes, and everyone knew that insulting a Sith Lord could quickly be fatal.

Revan leaned forward, never taking his eyes away from Arie, who was doing her best not to look away. "I know what the Republic withdrawal has done to your planet. How your population is in near anarchy, your citizens go without proper medical care, people are hoarding goods, creating food shortages." He paused, and Arie watched with disbelief as she listened to the passion in his voice.

"I want to help you end the suffering of your planet."

Arie was startled, though she did not let that show on her face as she calmly stated, "In my experience, the Sith have never cared much for the wellbeing of the planets they subjugate, beyond resource extraction." She paused and noticed a slight grimace cross the young Sith's face. "Why should I believe you, Lord Revan?"

The Dark Lord seemed to pause for just a moment, before he, with a slight smile, replied in a tone as calm as if he were ordering his dinner

"I only ask that you give me the benefit of the doubt, Madame President. And that you judge me by my actions towards you, and your planet. I should point out that I have not initiated hostilities or made demands of you."

"Not yet." The words flew from Arie's mouth, before she could keep them back and she cursed herself for losing her tact. Anxiously she reached down and nervously straightened her gown, knowing that she might have just incurred the wrath of the Dark Lord.

But again, Revan surprised her when he didn't even flinch, but leaned forward in his chair calmly. "I know what is happening here, Madame President. I am aware that your encounters with the Sith in the past have been…unpleasant." Arie noted how carefully he weighed the use of the last word. "Nevertheless, I can imagine that seeing your planet in such a state of chaos must be most distressing to you."

She smiled her most radiant smile, one that had on several occasions earned her the eager attention of a few Republic officials. "We are having a tough time of it now, true." If Revan was influenced by her sudden change in behaviour, he didn't show it. "Your offer of food and medical supplies is indeed most generous, but I still don't see that the Sith could offer my planet anything on a long term basis asides from a mining contract."

"Tell me, Madame President, is Dosuun a technologically developing world? Have you been expanding your agricultural areas in pace with your increase in population during the last years?"

Arie wanted to retort, to tell him he was wrong, but her words failed her. Instead, she set her face in a diplomatic mask, to hide her emotions.

Revan smiled at her lack of response and continued to drive home his point. "Who will you arrange imports with? Smugglers? The Hutts? The Commerce Guild? They all charge horrendous amounts of credits to do a simple shipping run. Now…" His smile grew even wider. "Can you imagine the fees they would charge, if they were to send their ships to a defenceless world on the borders of Sith space?"

Arie was about to open her mouth and protest, but Revan calmly held up a hand for her to allow him to finish.

"Quite simply, Madame President, I am your only hope. And I am not asking for you or your people to bow and scrape before me, and I have no interest in strip-mining your world or to conscript your children for war."

"Then…" Arie managed to stutter through her amazement, "What do you wish?"

Revan spoke calmly and apparently sincerely. "A partnership. I wish to offer Dosuun a place in the Sith empire. With all the obligations and benefits therein."

Arie, suddenly cautious again, suspiciously replied "What sorts of obligations? Will you be wanting to take over this?" She gestured around with her right arm, encompassing the presidential office and all that the room implied.

Revan shook his head, which completely stumped Arie. "Not at all. What I mean is that with the membership, you retain your planetary government, but I will post warships here to guarantee your safety. You will, of course, be held accountable to me, but if you ever require my council, I shall be readily available. And if you are threatened, then I will make sure you are protected." He paused and locked eyes with her. Arie felt completely lost in the depth of his dark brown eyes. "And as for your minerals, I will be content with exclusive shipping rights. You will not have to risk your planet's ecological balance by opening more mines. The yield you have been producing up until now will suffice."

He paused just briefly, and softly put his hand across hers, whilst never taking his eyes off her, sincerity and appeal radiating from him as he spoke. "Let me help you, Arie-let me help you and your people recover from the Republic's exploitation and abandonment."

Arie, her carefully cultivated diplomatic mask shattered by the touch of his hand, took a while to speak. "I…I need to bring this before the rest of my government. I shall have an answer for you in two days."

He smiled as he withdrew his hand and stood. "Of course, Madame President," he said as he bowed and pulled his hood up around his face once again, but letting her look into his sincere eyes one last time before he did so. "I shall return to my ship and leave you to your deliberations. I will await your reply." He inclined his head once more and then headed for the door. But just as he reached it, he turned towards her and said in an almost wistful voice, "I hope you can convince the ministers to make the right choice, Arie…" And then he was gone, leaving a befuddled Arie Malca've in his wake, scrambling to organise a meeting of the government a meeting that, she was certain, would decide the fate of her planet.

Two days later 

Darth Revan stood aboard his flagship, the _Glorious,_ datapad in hand, the dark setting of the bridge completely contrary to his current mood. The Dosuunian government had decided to accept his offers and President Malca've had addressed her people via holonet to assure them that the Sith were not here with hostile intentions, after Revan had sent troops to work under Dosuunian command to help restore order, that was. Revan, as a courtesy, had agreed to only bring one destroyer at a time into orbit, offload it and then bring in the next. It lengthened the procedure of distributing the supplies considerably, but he was a patient man. And the contents of the datapad he was currently holding, a datapad that he had received from President Malca've during a brief session just a few hours earlier, made the wait acceptable.

It was filled with all the lengthy legal and diplomatic verbage without which no government in the galaxy seemed able to function, but one sweet sentence in the document was everything he had come for: "Dosuun formally requests entry into the Sith Empire"

He smiled beneath his mask. The young President had been a difficult opponent, but he had known that her desire to see her planet restored to an orderly state would be her weakness. It had been a tight vote, but the Dosuunian government had agreed 52-48 to join the Sith, and that was the only result that mattered. He did not doubt that there might be repercussions, but that was for the President to sort out. She seemed capable.

_More than capable. _Revan was amazed that someone so young could rise to lead a planet, and through an electoral process at that. Arie Malca've could not be much older than twenty standard years, and she was already a seasoned Dosuunian politician. He remembered with amusement how she had tried to charm him during their session, not doubting that any other man would have gone out of his way to appease her. She was certainly beautiful…but she was no match for his Dark Lady- a Dark Lady he longed to hold again, and savour the presence of. _Soon…soon, now that Dosuun is ours, the rest of our plans will proceed without delay, and then_ -- he smiled determinedly -- _the Galaxy will be ours..._

Hyperspace, location unknown. 

_Hyperspace…solitude…nothingness, _Vorn Teerad mused, as he stared out the bridge viewport of his flagship, the Sith Interdictor _Conqueror_. Fresh off the Star Forge's assembly line, the destroyer still reeked of sealants, a trait Teerad had hoped was restricted to conventional ship-building.

_I cannot believe I am doing this; I am actually going to get away with this ship and its technology._ Teerad allowed himself a slight smile, a most rare occurrence. One did not advance through the ranks of the Sith and reach the rank of Commodore to Lord Malak himself by smiling and nodding. Malak had been most clear that he would not tolerate any sorts of disloyalty, which meant that anyone who had been foolish enough to question anything he said had met an untimely demise, just as the predecessor to Saul Kareth had. Teerad had fared well under Lord Malak; the Dark Lord had favoured Teerad's straight forward approach: fire first, analyse later.

Teerad grabbed the support rail as the ship shook slightly. _Damn these new hyperspace motivators, they'll take forever to break in, _he silently cursed through clenched teeth.

His plan was brilliant in its simplicity. A slight miscalculation of the hyperspace jump coordinates would leave his ship well out of the battlefield at the Laasari repair station. None of the commanders of the eleven other destroyers in Teerad's command would question this explanation, and any doubts they might have would quickly be drowned out in the coming battle. A battle that Teerad was quite sure would lead the commanders and all their men to their doom. _If they want to die at Revan's whim, let them!_ Teerad thought with bitterness, a bitterness that he actually let shine through on his face, something he never did in front of other soldiers. But this crew was different; Teerad had handpicked every single officer, and they had in turn handpicked each and every crewmember for their respective sections. This procedure had allowed Teerad to assemble a crew completely loyal to him, and not to the bittersweet romantic ideas of a Dark Lord who should be long dead.

_Revan is a fool, _Teerad mused as his smile slowly returned. _And he's an even bigger fool if he thinks the other Sith Masters are going to stand by and allow such lack of discipline! The Sith do not ask…the Sith take!_ That had been the tradition for as long as he could remember and Lord Malak had honoured that. But Revan…_Honestly, I don't know what Shivana sees in a Master as weak as he… _Teerad's mind raced back to his encounter with the Dark Lord's apprentice…an encounter he would not care to repeat. _It's a small miracle that I'm even alive after what she did to me._ As he mused, his hand reflexively went to his throat, where not long ago, Shivana's mere presence hadseemed prepared to deny him his life.

The turbulence increased slightly. Teerad tightened his grip on the support rail as the ship shook again. _Damn this! If this continues, the entire bridge crew will be sprawled on the floor._ He glanced around the bridge, the sleek design always reminding him of the beauty of a deadly warship, and was surprised to see that every member of the bridge crew were still in their chairs, sitting erect almost like statues.

Another glance to the back of the bridge revealed that the trooper captain guarding the entrance was also standing stiff, and he didn't move, even though he had nothing to hold on to.

Puzzled, Teerad started towards the captain, wanting to enquire about his condition, when the hyperspace exit alarms suddenly flared to life. His face set in an expression of utter shock, Teerad glanced up at the timer hanging off the ceiling monitor-which showed ten standard minutes until their scheduled hyperspace exit. The blue/white tunnel visible through the front viewport suddenly erupted into a frenzy of elongated stars which shortened rapidly as the _Conquerer_ dropped into sublight, finally settling into space's familiar black curtain.

"Navigator!" Teerad barked. "Report! Has the hyperdrive malfunctioned? Where are we?" When he heard no reply, Teerad spun around, his face a grimace of anger and irritation.

"I gave you an order, Navigator! Report!"

Teerad stalked to the crew pit and grabbed the navigator by the collar. "Now you listen to me. If you want to avoid execution, you will tell me this instant where we are and why we dropped from hyperspace."

The navigator stared back at Teerad with glassy eyes, then spoke in the most monotonous tone Teerad had ever heard, almost like an old droid. "You should have listened, Admiral…"

Patience gone, Teerad dropped the navigator to the floor of the crew pit and stalked towards the trooper captain. "Captain, your weapon!" he barked. "I need to teach this maggot that I won't tolerate disobedience." But the trooper did not move; he didn't seem to have heard a single word Teerad had just said. Instead, he just replied in that same monotonous tone, which sounded even more frightening through his helmet filter, "The Sith do not tolerate disobedience…you should have listened, Admiral"

Teerad stopped dead in his tracks. He felt he was beginning to sweat, something that he only recalled having happened once in recent time. He gave a frightened glance around the bridge, only to find the entire bridge crew looking at him with that same dead, lifeless gaze.

Suddenly, the communications officer spoke up: "Incoming holo-trans, Admiral."

Before Teerad could give the order, the full-figure sized holoemitter at the centre of the bridge flared to life.

"Ahh, Admiral Teerad." Vorn felt his blood freeze as he looked into Darth Shivana's face. She was smiling, yet that made him feel even more afraid. The holo-trans did nothing to diminish her turquoise eyes. Their icy gaze fixated on him with a hint of amusement.

Trying to regain his composure, Teerad stammered: "Milady, we have had a hyperdrive failure, we are stranded and some sort of debilitating affliction is affecting my crew." _I might as well use her to get us out of here, then I can re-think my plan._ "We request assistance, our coordinates are…"

"I know what your coordinates are!" Shivana snarled with such menace that Teerad recoiled from her holoprojection. _How could she? No…_

Obviously amused by his bewilderment, Shivana stepped closer to him, her robes flowing around her as she took advantage of the bridge's integrated hologrid, which meant that the person communicating could walk around freely within the room. "I know…because it was I that selected them".

Through every ounce of self-control in his body, Teerad managed to avoid having his jaw drop.

Suddenly, he found that he couldn't move as Shivana slowly stepped up to him, a predatory gleam in her eyes, her body tensing like a Correllian Sand Panther about to leap onto its unsuspecting prey.

"Don't try to insult my intelligence, or the intelligence of my Master," she growled. All Teerad could do was to watch with utter horror as his second in command suddenly stepped up in front of him, drew his blaster pistol and pushed it against his own temple.

Shivana gave the man a heartless, cold look as she spoke with hatred in her voice. "Look at this man, Admiral. Young, ambitious and skilled. Exactly the type of man who could have a promising future in the Sith." She paused and looked briefly at Teerad who was still trying to keep himself from screaming out in frustration and impotence. "But, alas," she said casually, "That can never be, for you made him betray his Master and myself." She paused and her gaze grew even more menacing. "And if there's one thing I _despise_… it is a traitor." She raised her right hand, extended her index finger, forming the rough shape of a blaster, and lazily pointed it at Teerad's XO. Teerad didn't even had time to scream out before his officer pulled the trigger and the blaster bolt burned through his head.

Teerad tried desperately not to vomit as the corpse of his most trusted officer fell to the floor of the bridge with a deafening thud, the singed smell of burning flesh finding its way to Teerad's smell receptors.

Shivana looked at the corpse with disinterest, and then turned to Teerad as pure sadistic pleasure filled her eyes. "Hmm…a pity, really"

Then, as Teerad helplessly watched, she mercilessly gestured to each member of his bridge crew in turn. Each time, the crewmember put a blaster to his or her own temple and pulled the trigger.

As the slaughter progressed, Teered was unable to hide his distress, involuntarily crying as he begged Shivana to stop, but finding no mercy from the Dark Jedi. All she did when she pinned him under her merciless gaze was say, "Oh please, spare me the tears, Admiral. Try to at least die with dignity," in a voice that would have put the Sith Lords of old to shame.

After the final blaster shot had sounded on the bridge the, crew pit was a poll of broken corpses, with what little of their features that remained forever imprinted with the lifeless gaze with which they'd all met their horrific, self-inflicted death.

Teerad was released, and collapsed onto the floor, sobbing from the horror he had just witnessed. Somehow, he managed to summon the strength to look up at Darth Shivana's holographic representation which stood with her arms folded across her chest, dark, twisted amusement clearly evident on her regal face.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Have one of my crew blast me, or make me do it myself!" Teerad managed to state in defiance, something that clearly did nothing to affect Shivana.

"Please, if I wanted you blasted, then you would have been the first one…but I wanted you to witness the suffering of these promising people, whom you convinced could get away with betraying Lord Revan and myself."

"So now what?" Teerad stuttered. "Will you send me off to spread the word of what will happen to anyone who disobeys you?"

The Dark Jedi ignored him, and asked in an almost casual manner, "Tell me, Admiral. Have you ever had the Idroxian Flu?"

"I…what?"

Shivana smiled her vicious smile as she continued. "Oh, yes. I remember seeing in your military record that you had it as a child. I'm so glad you were able to get treatment, because that is an especially painful disease if left unchecked." She paused and walked slowly around Teerad's fallen form, her voice slowly taking on more malice as she continued, "One of the most painful symptoms, of course, is the extraordinarily high fever that untreated Idoxian Flu patients experience." She'd come full circle, and was now facing him again. Teerad glanced up in time to see her make an upward motion with her left hand before he suddenly found himself suspended in the air a few centimetres above the deck of the bridge.

Shivana coldly regarded him as she took a single step closer and with a voice as cold as her look; told him, "It's a pity you decided to make your attempt at betrayal when I was so far away…I would have loved the chance to use my lightsabre on you." She shrugged casually and held out her right palm towards him. "Oh well, it doesn't matter. I have something equally elaborate in store for you, Vorn Teerad."

Teerad was still feeling the chill of her gaze, but suddenly it felt as if the room had gotten ten degrees or so colder. He started cold-sweating heavily and began to shudder at the cold.

Shivana was smiling as she calmly spoke to the shivering Admiral. "What you are feeling now is the fever I mentioned earlier." She paused and slowly twisted her wrist, making Teerad shiver and sweat even more "The Force is such a wonderful tool…I can use it to suck the essence of life from a person, or I can fry their synapses with lightning, or..." She paused and, though Teerad would have thought it impossible, her gaze became even more filled with sadistic determination, "...or I can make a person's blood boil inside their body."

Teerad could only gag at her now, as his powers of speech had left him and he was so cold that he couldn't stop his teeth from clattering.

"And now…I will enjoy watching you die the most excruciating death as the memories of your failure, and of the people who died because of that, haunts you in your final moments. And don't worry about your crew. They are experiencing the same thing at this moment," she said whilst still wearing that sadistic smile on her face.

The last thing that Teerad managed to stutter out before the blood in his body started bleeding out of his veins as the hot fluid sought release, was, "What…what are you?"

He vaguely registered Shivana twisting her hand and the holocomm flashing for just a second, indicating that a recording device had been deactivated. Her image leaned into his face and the last thing Vorn Teerad ever heard before the blood spilled from his body was the cold, vicious voice of Darth Shivana.

"I, Admiral Teerad, am the Dark Lady of the Sith!"

_To be continued…_


	3. Shadow's Kiss pt 3: Shadows of the past

Shadows of the past

The slick silvery gleam of the Sith Interdictor _Volition_ made its way through the eternal darkness of space. In these desolate regions where no suns burned, no planets spawned life and no meteors flared, the ship dropped out of hyperspace to make a course correction, a standard procedure on long voyages, though never for this long.

Captain Telja Vance stood on the bridge, gazing out at the star field, his uniform pressed and spotless as befitting a Sith officer. He was tall, muscular, with black hair neatly trimmed and barely visible beneath his cap, and he was ripe with impatience, which was something unknown to him. His passenger for this journey had commed the bridge when the ship had left hyperspace with the simple message: "Hold here until you receive new instructions from me."

Not that Vance would ever question a superior; he believed in the Sith, and in the simple fact that victory came from setting aside your personal desires for the greater purpose. He had followed Lord Revan to war against the Mandalorians, and against the Republic. He knew his place and would not presume to think his own ambitions more important than his duty to the Dark Lord. He had saved them from the Mandalorians; had made them strong.

_When he came before us and told us how decadent and corrupt the Republic was, there was no doubt; we all followed Revan. He led us to victory, fought beside us. Unlike the squabbling senators back on Coruscant. _

Most of the dark Jedi never seemed to understand that true loyalty was earned, not instilled by fear. They squabbled constantly for the key positions, not afraid of employing techniques such as assassination to advance. The military had for the most part been able to keep their hierarchal system, though senior officers had been known to put their personal agendas before their mission. At times he loathed having to bow down to officers such as Admiral Vorn Teerad; a man who clearly placed himself and his own agenda above that of the Sith and the Dark Lord.

Vance allowed himself a slight smile, though he made sure none of his crew noticed. Lord Revan had been a capable commander. Though his successor, Lord Malak, had been a brute, Vance had been a faithful soldier and continued to serve the Sith under Malak. He was secretly very pleased that Revan had outsmarted his former apprentice and returned to power.

_And as for the new apprentice…_

Vance never finished the thought before he heard the door to the bridge slide open and light, yet confident footsteps reverberated in the darkened command centre.

The cultivated, yet firm words were nothing like Malak's or Teerad's. "Captain Vance, I am pleased to find you at your post, even after your shift has ended."

Vance turned on his heel and snapped to attention as Darth Shivana, dark robes flowing with an almost supernatural grace, walked calmly towards him with a look of unmasked curiosity that she could not hide on her beautiful, icy features.

Vance inclined his head as Lord Revan's right hand strode past him and gazed out the viewport. "Your orders were to hold here, until further notice. I made the presumption that it extended to myself remaining at my post."

Shivana smiled slightly. It was something that usually made Vance frightened whenever a dark Jedi did so, but her smile was reassuring. She was pleased.

"How very…dedicated of you, Captain." Shivana clasped her hands behind her back, drawing her robes closer to her slender, firm, feminine form as she turned towards Vance once more. "But tell me, Captain," she paused and her smile grew a bit colder, "Were you not even tempted to disobey?"

Vance gave a sharp glance. "I assure you not," he stated as the room suddenly seemed to shrink around him. Even the crewpit had grown quiet.

Shivana flexed her arms slightly and Vance tensed while his thoughts moved towards the blaster at his side and the one concealed in his ankle holster as her robes slid to the side around her waist, revealing the silver cylinder hanging from her belt.

"It is all right, Captain." Her voice seemed to echo inside his head. "You can tell me; I will understand."

Vance gazed into the dark Jedi's eyes, the perfect blue eyes that accentuated her beauty, and found himself fighting to hold anything back. He felt _compelled_ to tell her everything.

"Milady, with greatest respect," he said firmly, "they were unusual orders, but I have never questioned Lord Revan or anyone close to him. I serve him, and the Sith. My personal desires or feelings have no impact on that. I would die for him."

The Dark Jedi narrowed her eyes slightly, and raised her hand; Vance had seen that move often enough to know what it meant, but suddenly she paused and then lowered her hand again, as Vance felt as if he had been awakened from a trance when her gaze softened and she let her robes cover her lightsabre once more.

"I respect your dedication, Captain. Unfortunately," she said as she strode towards the nearest console and inserted a datacard into the holoprojector, "others were not so dedicated." This time no one on the bridge missed the malice in her voice, "This is what happens when you try to betray Lord Revan. This is what happened to Vorn Teerad!"

Vance and the bridge crew watched with horror as the holorecording detailed the ghastly deaths of Vorn Teerad and his traitorous crew. Vance noticed in the corner of his eye that several members of the bridge crew pull out the emergency waste bags from under their chairs and emptied their stomach content out into them. He himself had seen much, but nothing this bad. He watched Teerad plea for mercy, and find only unspeakable torment as he boiled from the inside out.

When it was over, Shivana casually and slowly took the holocard and turned to Vance, her voice again controlled and chilling. "Set course for Korriban."

Danavo, Outer Rim

_What a wretched hive of scum and villainy,_ the man thought as he went down the promenade that began at the spaceport and stretched all the way to the centre of the Arnakko City. As he walked, the scents and sounds of the lower forms of galactic life invaded his senses. He recoiled in disgust as a female Twi'lek, holding a child in one arm pleaded him for a few credits, her torn clothing revealing burned sapphire skin beneath. The man pushed the woman to the side, not bothering to take her or her child's wellbeing into account; they were little people, who weren't worth his time. The type that always complained that life was hard.

He snorted. _Lazy urchins. They don't bother trying to make something of themselves, but would rather hide in the shadows_.

He drew the dark cloak tighter around his body and face, not wanting to attract any more unwelcome attention. He raised a hand to his nose as he passed an Ithorian lying still by the edge of the street. The aliens did seem to have the worst smell.

_Filthy creatures…though the Twi'leks do seem passable for human, with the right instructions._

He smiled smugly as he remembered the last time a Twi'lek dancer had performed for him. _Those headtails_.

He would have to check if there were any available Twi'lek females on this planet, after he'd concluded his business. His wealthy parents had taught him: "business before pleasure," and it had taken him far in life.

_Until recently! _Suddenly his mood became dark and bitter _That woman is a pathetic whelp! How dare she correct me? She will pay! They all will."_

Slowly, he calmed down, reassuring himself he would have the last laugh, and a lot more as well. _Wealth, women, power…everything!_

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the figure following him, a figure that ducked into an alley as the man reached the Relvarr Cantina and went inside.

The cantina was filled with both humans and aliens, all talking loudly and all intoxicated. He could hear glass shattering at a table nearby; the oozing content spilling onto the filthy floor. He approached the bar, trying his best not to appear uncomfortable, though he felt as if he were caught in a wild animal pen. The bartender, a Zabrak with a long scar across his face, looked at him with a mixture of indifference and hostility, and pointedly asked, "Yeah, whaddya want?"

The man took up a perch on a wobbly barstool and ordered what he'd been instructed to order. "Corellian Ale. The '27 variant."

The bartender showed no interest and merely went to get the drink, which puzzled the man slightly. He was left sitting alone, glancing around at the dodgy cantina. Oozing liquids, rowdy patrons, and the scent of incense made up the scenery. Once again, contempt flared up in him for these uncivilised beings, but he was torn from his thoughts as the Zabrak bartender rather rudely slammed the glass of Corellian Ale down in front of him.

"Four credits," the alien grunted. The man reached into his pocket and handed the Zabrak the exact amount, which earned him a snort of contempt from the horned alien as he stalked down the bar to attend to other patrons.

The man glanced around. Nothing. Had he gotten the timetable wrong? He did not think so, but perhaps his counterpart had been detained? He took a swig from the glass of Ale and felt the dark liquid pour down his throat, burning slightly. Corellian Ale was far from his tastes, but he drank what he had been instructed to drink, even if it was a vile concoction. He winced at the taste of the foaming liquid; even this ale was not supposed to go to one's head this quick. He vaguely became aware of a large framed human male sitting down next to him; the type of man who could easily beat even a Trandoshan bounty hunter to a pulp.

_Revan and his lapdogs will all pay! No one does this to me. No one._

The man's anger was rising, something he normally never allowed in public, but the ale was strong and it was getting to him. He looked at the glass…only half-empty and he still felt as if he were on his third. He was nodding off, even though he put every effort into not doing so, and the last thing he registered before his head tilted downwards toward the bar was the large mans voice.

"Come on, friend. Let's get you someplace where you can sleep it off." He felt himself being lifted up and dragged away. And then darkness.

When he came to, his head was spinning like a thousand Yano discs all at once, and he found himself in a poorly lit room, with slime and some sort of fungi on the walls. Liquids dripped from the few pipes he could discern in the ceiling.

"So, you're awake."

The gruff voice came from somewhere in the darkness in front of him. "Don't get up," he heard before he had even realised he was sitting in a chair. "This arrangement is more beneficial if discretion is adhered to."

He settled in, shifting around uncomfortably. This was not how he had imagined his trip.

"I will ask you questions, and I would expect you to be honest," the voice came, with only a hint of disbelief in it. "We understand that you would be willing to aid us with," there was a pause, "certain objectives, in exchange for certain accommodations towards you on this matter. Is that correct?"

He cleared his throat before he spoke, hoping that would mask the nervousness creeping up on him. "I, ah, yes, that is correct."

_So much for that. _

"I would be more than willing to…" he stuttered, before the voice cut him off with a tone of impatience.

"Spare me the diplomatic speech. We don't concern ourselves with such things. We have the answer we were looking for."

He nervously rubbed his hands together in front of him, but whomever the speaker was he or she did not seem to notice.

"We need an event of sufficient magnitude to attract the personal attention of the target. Do you understand? We need something that will cause him to appear personally, and not merely send a lackey."

The voice paused briefly and when it resumed there was just the hint of a threat. "We would not look kindly upon the squandering of our resources on this matter. We consider this a priority, and you had best be sure you can arrange the situation as we have described."

Even though the discomfort of the situation was quickly becoming overwhelming, the man in the chair managed to sit up straight and force confidence into his voice. "I am sure. I have as much vested in this enterprise as you do. The situation will be of the magnitude you require. He will be drawn forth."

He waited for one moment that seemed to last for an eternity as nothing was heard but leaking pipes, and the sound of insects and other critters rustling around.

Finally, the voice came again "Very well. We shall begin to make appropriate arrangements. You are not to act until you hear from us again. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Quite clear. I will await your instructions."

"Good. Hold out your right arm, please." He did so, and within a second he felt a hypo injector pressed towards his skin. "I am sure you can understand the need for discretion," the voice repeated, slightly amused. "You cannot reveal that which you do not know of. Such as this location. We will be in touch."

"Wait, where am I going to -" was the only thing he managed before the tranquilizer swept his mind into darkness.

He awoke in the cockpit of his LT500 luxury space yacht, with the familiar tunnel view of hyperspace in front of him. He had made this trip alone, and his contact had obviously programmed the ship's autopilot to take him back to his point of origin through another route than the one he had taken himself.

_Discretion above all else, indeed,_ he mused, as he leaned back in the pilot's seat.

The trip had been productive, at least. The plans were in motion, and soon everyone would know that it was not good to cross him. Though he knew little of his contacts, he had a good idea who they worked for, and he knew how they handled matters.

Yes…soon all those who had ridiculed him and discarded him, would get theirs. And he would be returned to a proper place. One of power, where he belonged.

He allowed himself a sly smile _They will all pay. Of that, you can be sure._

Korriban, Dreshdae Spaceport

Yuthura Ban was not pleased. In fact, she was furious.

Ever since her encounter with the then Jedi Revan where he'd spared her life, she had been quite content to run the Sith Academy on Korriban, and continue to ensure that her students were the finest the Sith could offer. Every student who'd studied at the Academy and survived had more than proved their worth. Yet -- and this was what Yuthura was so furious about -- the position coveted by all Sith as the ultimate prize, namely to be taken as apprentice to the Dark Lord, had been handed to a feeble Jedi woman. A fallen lightsider who had managed to insinuate herself first into Malak's, and now Revan's trust. In truth, this was all Yuthura knew of this apprentice. Word had spread quickly about Revan's return, though details of this apprentice had been unusually vague.

So, the most sacred position in the Sith, aside from the title of Dark Lord of course, was handed to a... a spoiled, two faced, Jedi harlot! Yuthura had fumed at this, and then the indignity had been deepened.

Darth Revan himself had contacted her, informing her that his apprentice would be arriving on Korriban shortly to make preparations for a convocation of the Sith Masters. Yuthura was to offer her full cooperation. She still remembered the words, booming through the mask.

"_I'll cooperate,"_ Yuthura mused contemptfully, _"but that…that _'thief' _will never have my respect. I worked hard to get to where I am, acted with cunning, decisiveness. What did she ever do for Lord Revan?"_

Yuthura turned her gaze skyward at the sound of repulsor lifts. The shuttle that was landing was almost shaped like a hook, slightly alien in design with the boarding ramp dropping down beneath the cockpit. The ship deployed its landing gear, and settled into the former Czerka landing port at Dreshdae. Vent exhausts opened, and steam flowed out onto the duracrete paving in the bay, accompanied by the usual hissing sound.

Yuthura steeled herself as she heard the seals on the shuttle disengage. Quickly, she put on her most intimidating, yet grudgingly respectful gaze as the shuttle's ramp lowered towards the ground with a mechanical hiss.

A figure appeared at the top of the ramp, still hidden in darkness. Cloaked in shadow, it surveyed the surroundings and, finding nothing out of place, started down the ramp. Yuthura's intimidating gaze disappeared as the figure stepped into the light, striding down the ramp with long, confident steps.

She was dressed in dark robes, adorned with dark red armor plates around the chest, which was crafted with elegant patterns of ancient Sith symbols. The same armor adorned her gauntlets on the backhanded side. The robes showed her slender, fit, and feminine form, but they flowed slightly outwards from the waist and down, making it appear as if she floated just off the ground. It was obvious to Yuthura that the robes were designed for intimidation and combat, and she had no doubt that the wearer would have uncanny combat skills.

The other woman had her hood up, just barely covering her face, and as Yuthura stepped forwards to bow, she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. The strength of the Force around the newly arrived individual was overwhelming. Not even Master Uthar had been this strong.

"_Revan is taking a huge risk! This woman will almost certainly try to best him soon. How can he allow her to become this strong, so quickly? It goes against every Sith tradition!"_

Yuthura's mental rant was interrupted as the cloaked woman reached the bottom of the ramp. The Twi'lek Sith Master steeled herself, and with as much confidence she could muster, she spoke.

"Welcome to Dreshdae, Lord Revan has informed me of your purpose here. I am -"

"I know who you are, Yuthura Ban." The voice was clear, cultivated, and utterly chilling. "I am Darth Shivana."

She pulled back her hood, and Yuthura steeled herself. Sith Masters, those who had the same level of power that radiated from this... 'Darth Shivana,' weren't a pleasant sight. Yuthura found she was holding her breath as Shivana's face revealed itself.

To her surprise, it wasn't a hideous gray face, with sickly yellow eyes, that was revealed. It was an utterly beautiful face, by human standards, formed from marble skin, and the eyes, oh the eyes!

Yuthura had always found that humans had such remarkable retinal coloring, had even been envious of how their eyes swam through almost every colour. Shivana, Lady Shivana's eyes were a deep blue. But, as she stared into them, they were cold, like the deep blue of the depths of the ocean.

Yuthura felt as if she'd just snapped out of a trance. This woman was Bastila Shan! The Jedi, whom Revan had been desperate to find during his last visit to Korriban, before… _This _was the spoiled brat who'd usurped the place at Lord Revan's side? All of a sudden Yuthura felt very uncomfortable even having such thoughts. She knew enough of dark side powers to know that for someone who had learned to focus greatly, as was required during the Battle Meditation that Bastila Shan had been known for, would have no trouble diving into the minds of others.

Yuthura shook herself as Shivana paused a few meters away from her and tilted her head as her smooth voice resonated throughout the docking bay. Her mildly amused tone somehow managed to retain the coolness Yuthura was feeling all over her body.

"Shall we?"

"Yes. My apologies, Lady Shivana." Yuthura turned and hurried up to walk with respect beside the other woman, hoping to at least stay on acceptable terms. She didn't want to be the enemy of someone this powerful. "How may I be of service to Lord Revan and, and to you, my Lady?"

"Start with the discarding of these false pleasantries." The coldness in Bastila's -- Shivana's -- voice was something even Yuthura found unpleasant. And she had spent many hours in the company of the likes of Master Uthar. "You are here because you know the layout of this facility, and are familiar with each and every student and which of the Sith Masters they favor."

Pausing for a few seconds to let this sink in, she turned towards Yuthura, her icy-cold gaze boring into the Twi'lek. "I, as well as Lord Revan, require this information. So, I trust you will be cooperative?"

They walked on, in what seemed an eerie silence, at least to Yuthura. Eventually they reached a T-junction in the academy corridors. One corridor led to the VIP accommodation area, the other into the general facilities of the Sith Academy. The room that this junction formed had a vast, a highly vaulted ceiling where sound reverberated. Yuthura felt herself shrink slightly as those ice-blue eyes fell upon her once more.

"I trust that having everything in place for a convocation of the Sith Masters within a month will not be a problem?" Shivana raised her hand, making the Twi'lek flinch, and pointed firmly at her. Yuthura could only stare with terrified rigidity at her face, a mask of cold, calculated determination. "The Dark Lord believes you to be an ally, a faithful and loyal subject. I should hate to... be forced to tell him differently when he arrives."

Yuthura's heart skipped a beat. "Lord Revan is coming here?" She asked, unable to stop her lekku from twitching nervously. "Here to the Academy?"

Darth Shivana smiled. It was a smile that made Yuthura feel even colder in her presence.

"That is correct. And the Dark Lord has great confidence in your abilities. And I hope, for your sake, that you do not disappoint." She paused, just allowing the thinly veiled threat to sink in before she continued. "Neither I, nor my Master are as forgiving as that fool Malak was!"

With that, Darth Shivana turned and headed towards her quarters, apparently guided by intuition, as Yuthura had not managed to even show where said quarters were. The Twi'kek Sith Master could only stare after her, as Darth Shivana's black robes swirled around her like a cloud of darkness.

Unable to help glancing nervously behind her, Yuthura quickly hastened in the other direction, towards her own workspace. She had preparations to attend to, and little time to do so.

She hurried through the corridors, passing several students which sent glances her way, probably wondering what could cause the head of the Academy to rush along like that short of the Dark Lord himself appearing. Yuthura almost laughed at the irony: if the foolish youths only knew.

_Sending the apprentice is one thing, having me dig up all information pertaining to the various Sith Masters and planning a convocation of them is quite another,_ Yuthura mused as her headtails twitched slightly, a sign of nervousness…_a sign of weakness, a sign of indetermination. Unbecoming a Sith of my stature._

_Fascinating,_ Bastila thought to herself as she strode down the stone corridors of the Sith Academy, her turquoise eyes examined every centimeter of material their gaze fell over. _I wonder if…_ she mused as she stepped in close to one of the walls, put her hands against the coarse rocky surface, and immediately felt a sensation of dark side energies coursing through the place. Like a cold, clammy hand reaching out for her, trying to ensnare her, to bend her will to its own purpose. The Force itself seemed to creep in the crevices of this place, but it was tainted, impure. _Flawed, _she thought with contempt as her own power swelled up towards the dark side energy of the Academy. _Seethed in the mindless and deluded traditions of the Sith, not worthy of Revan nor myself. We are far superior to _this!

As she thought the words, her own Force aura crept around the dark Force presence. _Hmm…how interesting._ Bastila smiled as she directed all her considerable power towards the source of this disturbance. _How long has this pathetic spirit been creeping around this corridor scaring students, hmm?_ She closed her eyes and let the Force guide her towards the suddenly terrified spirit as it made an attempt to retreat but found its way blocked by her own powers. _Today, you meet your match, spirit! _

She allowed herself a cold, merciless smile. _I don't know who undid your life, but whoever it was apparently didn't have the strength or commitment to finish the job…I always finish what I start!_ She inhaled deeply and focused all of her raw Force strength on the spirit. _Oblivion awaits you_

Though there was no physical scream, she could more than feel the spirit's demise as she ripped its Force essence to shreds.

She probed around with her Force senses, but the strange dark side background noise that had permeated the Academy just moments before had subsided to a dead-stillness. With a satisfied smile, Darth Shivana, Dark Lady of the Sith, resumed her walk.

_A lesson well learned, I think._

Two days later

The harsh, dusty air greeted her along with a wave of heat as she stepped from the cold stone halls of the Academy into the Valley of the Dark Lords. The searing heat and invasive dust was a fitting compliment to the overall oppressive nature of the planet Korriban. It was as if darkness and oppression was imbedded in the core of the planet, and a person walking the brief canyon that led from the Academy to the valley could feel the walls tighten around them, like a shroud of darkness.

Bastila could feel it, the power of this place, as she walked briskly down the canyon where any other person, aside from perhaps one, would gaze cautiously around the narrow passage and feel small and insignificant. She made a contemptuous sound. She did not fear the darkness; she welcomed and transcended it. Not even the Shyracks that usually were a constant nuisance to the students and teachers heading into the Valley approached her when she passed their lair. Instead, they seemed to shrink and eventually recede into the dark orifice that made up the cave entrance as she walked by, unaffected by their presence.

_Self-preservation is a strong instinct,_ she thought as she left the flying beasts' cave behind, and made her way around the final bend and into the Valley itself.

Nothing in her life, neither old nor new, had prepared her for the sight that greeted her: the ancient monoliths that stood in silent vigil over the massive tombs of Dark Lords of times long past. The massive pillars still stood as obelisks of power, even the ones that were knocked over either through the natural course of time or other reasons. The Valley of the Dark Lords was indeed a true marvel to behold, and even she, the woman who had been taught that the Sith were a cruel and evil people, could not help but be utterly enticed by the power of this place. The power seemed to call to her, begging her to claim it, to relinquish her control. It was tempting, but she saw it as nothing than a transparent lie. She had learned that control was essential if one sought to maintain order, and she did. She and the man that she was forever bound to, by fate and the Force; the man who had been turned into a shell of his former self by a decrepit collection of frightened, senile old men.

She pursed her full lips slightly and slowly ran her tongue over them. Anger was always there when she thought of this, yet it always…

_Ah there it is,_ she thought when she felt the anger give way to passion as her thoughts began to focus on how she had set herself, and eventually him, free. Even if she had almost lost him, it didn't matter anymore. They were together now, would be so forever because they had the strength to undo anyone who would try to get between them, or stand against them.

Bastila smiled as she remembered how he had let her strike down that fool Malak, the Usurper, and then had extended his hand to her on the ancient, Rakatan Star Forge. His words flowing through her memory like golden honey: _"Come, Bastila. We have an empire to build."_

_We!_ Her smile grew wider and she could feel the passion welling up inside her. She did not try to push it down; if anyone noticed, she'd wipe the incident from their minds with the Force. Her recent experiences had shown her how she had a particular affinity in the ability to affect the minds of others… well except for Revan. Her Dark Lord. Her everything. Her… love.

The Sith were fools, and in some ways even more foolish than the Jedi. The Jedi denied feelings, but the Sith only selected feelings they _thought_ were beneficial, and denied themselves much power in the process. She had come to understand, through Revan's guidance, that true mastery was of all of one's emotions, and not merely anger and hate. It gave both of them an advantage over the rest of the Sith. It was appropriate; the rulers were always the strongest, and she and Revan would be the strongest forever! They would sit on the Sith throne as Lord and Lady, sharing their unique power, through their unique connection, until one day, the Force would claim their physical bodies.

"_Do not be so eager to traverse that void, young one."_

It was not so much a call as a whisper, though it had as much effect on her as it would have had if the speaker had been sneaking up on her. She whirled around and her hand flew to the hilt clipped on her belt as she faced… nothing. She frowned and quickly gazed around while reaching out with the Force to see if she could detect from where the voice was coming.

_Still nothing. No, wait,_ she thought as she felt a slight pull through the Force. _That tomb…_

The strange Force emanation came from one of the tombs in the Valley. The other tombs resonated with Force energies too, but this one was different. She had been known to be curious before, and that was not a trait that was so easily dispensed with.

_I wonder what restless spirit lurks within this one, _she thought. As she walked towards the young student working near the tomb's entrance, the gravel crunched beneath her boots.

She was even younger than Bastila by at least two years with a trim figure and shoulder-length blonde hair. Her presence in the Force, though, revealed more strength than was apparently obvious. Bastila made a note to keep an eye on this one.

"Something I can help you with?" the student asked.

Bastila arched an eyebrow at the other woman, whom apparently had no idea whom she was addressing. "Yes," she began in her most diplomatic voice. She pointed towards the massive stone door behind the archaeologist. "Whose tomb is this?"

The other woman regarded her warily for a moment, but then spoke with a voice forced with professionalism. "This is the tomb of Ajunta Pall: one of the first and greatest Sith Lords, who died almost 20,000 years ago. We've been keeping students out of the tombs ever since that unfortunate business about a month ago."

Bastila noticed a distinct grimace on the other woman's face as she spoke the last words. "What business?"

The student narrowed her eyes and looked up and down Bastila "Who are you, anyway?" We don't allow students into the tombs anymore, and I know the face of all the Sith Masters on Korriban. I don't recognise you." She reached around her back and produced a small blaster. "So, have I caught myself another Jedi spy? Like the one who violated this tomb?"

Bastila's arm shot forward like a Deralian viper. She grabbed the other woman by the throat and slammed her into the ground before she had a chance to even aim the blaster.

"Listen to me, and listen carefully." Bastila's voice was a low hiss as she moved her face to just a few centimetres from the other woman's. "Do not _ever_ call me a Jedi. If you do, then your life will be worth less than the dirt beneath my soles. Understand?"

The archaeologist wasn't able to make a verbal response due to the hand wrapped firmly around her throat, but she did manage to nod desperately. Even so, Bastila let her grip remain on her a few seconds longer before she let go. The other woman inhaled deeply as her airways were cleared once more.

"I…I understand," she gasped as Bastila stood towering over her.

"Darth…Shivana," Bastila finished for her.

The archaeologist's eyes showed recognition at the mention of her name, and Bastila shot her one last contemptuous glare before stepping back.

"Now, tell me what happened here a month ago" she stated plainly.

The student slowly got to her feet: "Some Jedi came running through here and stole one of the most important artefacts of Sith history. Not only that, but the same Jedi eliminated Master Uthar and helped Master Ban rise to become the head of the academy."

Bastila smiled discreetly. This was interesting. Apparently not everyone was happy with Yuthura Ban. "A Jedi, you say?"

"Pfft. Yes, a Jedi managed to infiltrate the Academy and do all sorts of havoc before leaving again. Killed some of our best students."

"Indeed?" Bastila spoke softly so as not to let the other woman realise that none of this was new information to her.

"Yes, but that's not the worst of it. This Jedi was in _all _the tombs. Who knows what he could have learned from that? As I mentioned before, we do know he took some artefacts." The contempt was clearly evident in her voice.

"Such as?" Bastila probed.

"The sword of Ajunta Pall, itself. We had spent years trying to find it, and then some Jedi wanders in here and just happens upon it."

_Such anger in you when you say that. How interesting._

"It belongs to the Sith!" She sighed heavily and shook her head. "But I suppose at least now we won't have to worry about the Tuk'ata anymore. That Jedi cleaned them all out."

"Well, then I should not have any trouble exploring the tomb," Bastila said as she started past the archaeologist.

"I knew Revan had a vicious Kath hound as a pet, I just never suspected it was a woman," the student muttered, but Bastila only paused for a heartbeat before she strode quickly into the tomb.

The cold, clammy environment struck her like a wave. The contrast to the hot, dry atmosphere of Korriban itself was astounding. It was almost as if the makers of the tomb had intended to keep its environment self-contained and isolated from the rest of the planet. Bastila could see the moss on the ancient stone walls as she walked down a hallway. Insects moved in the recesses, and the slow decay of life filled this place. It poured through the Force filling every edifice, every crevice of the ancient tomb. But there was something else as well: a sense of despair and determination that did not seem to fit with the tomb, but resonated powerfully regardless.

_I know this feeling…I have felt it before, but where? _Bastila wondered. _It is familiar, yet alien. Like a shroud._

She pressed forward, and the darkness with all its oppressive nature weighed down upon her, but the call to go on was getting stronger. Something was waiting for her ahead. She came to an ancient stone bridge and looked into the seemingly endless abyss below, the shyracks howling above her.

_I wonder how deep this chasm is? Would one fall for hours? _she mused as she slowly made her way across the narrow bridge, and that's when she noticed the markings. _Plasma burns. Someone was here recently. And they used explosives._ She bent down and took a handful of the gravel lying on the bridge in her hand. _A plasma grenade should have been able to take a sizable part of this bridge with it as well, yet all that shows on the bridge itself are the markings…most curious. _She looked around in the darkness, but saw no further scorching anywhere else, just the one location. _The bridge still seems sturdy._

With that, she stood and continued across the abyss to the far side of the bridge where two ancient monoliths stood silent vigil over a stone gate, which was gaping open. The Force resonated powerfully beyond the passageway calling to her, drawing her closer, and she found herself moving forward almost mindlessly. There was no choice to turn back in her mind as she passed the monoliths and into the downward leading passageway beyond. The passageway led to a massive stone door that silently slid aside as she approached, and just as silently slid closed behind her once she stepped through.

The past echoed here in this large room, all built around a central altar that contained an open sarcophagus. A shaft directly above directed the harsh light of Korriban's sun onto the altar completing the display. Around the edge of the room were four shafts, all spewing heated steams from the core of the planet far below.

Bastila slowly moved towards the altar, casting quick glances around to detect possible threats or traps. As she stepped closer, she noticed the ancient markings on the sarcophagus itself. Knowledge of times long gone called out to her when she raised her hand to touch the surface of the millennia-old relic.

"Ah, so you are here at last."

She spun around, gripping her lightsabre and getting into a battle-stance all in two seconds after hearing the voice. The blades bathed the tomb in their crimson light, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her.

"I was beginning to wonder if you would appear."

The speaker was, or had at some point been human, that much she could tell. A man of approximately forty standard years, dressed in robes similar to what the Jedi and the Sith wore, with the difference that he wore a hood pulled over his head obscuring most of his features. Or so it would have if the speaker were alive. The Force glowed around him; the luminescence of his spirit-form rivalling that of her crimson blades.

"Who are you? Speak quickly!" she snapped.

The figure tilted its head slightly, as if truly seeing her for the first time. "Curious. You carry him deeply within your soul, yet you are so entirely different from him. I wonder what would have happened had it been you, not he, who came here before." The figure paused, as if gathering his thoughts. "You must be the one who was calling to him, the one he would gladly wade through endless waves of opponents to get to. He found you, obviously, but..."

"Save your riddles, spirit!" Bastila spat, her ire rising. She did not like to be caught off guard, and the insult was made even greater by the fact that some millennia old ghost had managed that feat.

The spirit ignored her. "So, you managed to awaken what you always said was there, did you? Has it made you content? Do you feel powerful in knowing that he would forsake his friends, his oath, even his very beliefs for you?"

"You know nothing of what you speak," Bastila hissed, tightening her grip on the hilt of her lightsabre.

"Don't I, now?" the spirit chuckled briefly, but then sadness crept into his voice. "If you believe yourself to be the first to walk the path of passions, then you would be mistaken." The form took a step towards her. "For that is what drives you, is it not? What flows like dark water in your mind?"

Bastila relaxed her stance slightly. "How would you know what drives me?" _Especially as I have gone to great lengths to hide it._

"In my…state you tend to pick up clues that you would not have before. But perhaps it would be best to introduce myself. I am Ajunta Pall, one of the first Dark Lords of the Sith. I last walked the surface of this planet nearly 20,000 standard years ago."

Despite herself, Bastila could not hold back her curiosity. "Then why are you here now? You became one with the Force long ago."

The spectre made a noise that could only have been the equivalent of a snort. "Young one, you obviously understand little of the dark side. For a Dark Lord such as me, death offers no relief. No, I lingered here throughout the ages, wallowing in my misery, reliving the tragedies of my life until one day a Jedi managed to breach this tomb's defences."

Bastila narrowed her eyes at that last comment, anger rising in her mind as the spectre continued its tale.

"But that is not what you wish to hear, is it young…" he paused, pondering his words, "human. No, the question you wish answered is one that goes much deeper than that. One that goes to the very core of your being, so to speak."

"How do you know that?" Bastila almost shouted, her hands trembling; she did not like being read in this fashion.

But the spectre merely smiled at her. "I know more than you would realise. I walked the same path millennia ago, myself. And it is because of that, I was drawn to you, why I needed for you to come here." As he spoke, the spectre's tone softened and he moved a few paces towards her. "Long have I waited for a chance to tell this tale: the tale of why the Sith evolved into the beings they are now, filled with anger and hate, claiming those emotions as being the true path to power." The spirit's shoulders appeared to slump slightly, and Bastila finally deactivated her blade.

"Do not waste my time with fables, spirit!" she growled and started towards the door. She didn't get two steps towards it before it shut in her path. Angry, she spun around and looked at the spectre, who appeared as though he did not notice her as he moved through the central pillar of light and stopped near an old statue near the far end of the tomb. "Twist the right arm out and sideways, young one; my present state does not allow me to do so myself."

On her guard, Bastila stepped towards the ancient statue; the markings of time clearly visible on the ancient stones. Reaching up, she grabbed the statue's right arm and twisted it out and sideways, as the spectre had instructed. As she pulled downward she heard a distinctive clicking noise, and then a low rumble that caused her to jump back in surprise as the platform the statue stood on lowered itself into the floor of the tomb, revealing a hatch beyond. The hatch popped open when the statue had fully recessed into the floor.

Bastila looked over at the spectre of Ajunta Pall, who simply nodded to her.

Cautiously, she reached into the hidden compartment where the air was completely stale like a vacuum, or a storage vault. It was pitch dark in there, but she felt her way around until her hands touched something soft but rugged. She looked over at Ajunta's spectre once more, but his back was turned. Taking a deep breath, she closed her hand around the contents of the vault and pulled it out.

"Those robes belonged to another of the First Ones," the spectre spoke solemnly. "She was much like you, young one, filled with fire and passion, willing to give her utmost for those she cared about." He paused, and Bastila could sense a slight trembling in his voice when he continued. "Even to those who did not deserve it."

Bastila went to the centre of the room where the light poured down the shaft and cautiously unfolded the ancient garments.

"I remember when we first arrived here on this planet. Having chosen to flee known space, to escape the Jedi. Later I realised it was to escape the guilt." The spectre moved towards the passageway and gazed into the darkness. Bastila could feel sorrow rushing from him. "Her name was Nira and we always had a connection, she and I. From when we first met in training we were drawn to each other. It grew more intense as the years passed until we eventually began seeing each other in secret."

He turned towards her slowly. "We grew tired of it, so when one of our fellow Jedi offered us the chance to study the secrets of the dark side and free ourselves from the chains of the Order, we both took it. We studied in secret, until one day we were discovered and were forced to flee. We did not simply leave, of course, we fought bitterly, against both our fellow students and our Masters, unleashing all the terrible secrets that we had mastered." The spectre looked at Bastila solemnly. "But it was not enough. Half were eventually slain and the rest of us fled across the galaxy until finally we came to this place." He gestured at the space around them. "And here we made our fortress. Here we set out to master the powers we had begun back in hiding, to one day return and vanquish those who had scorned us, the Masters, and to make the young Jedi and the Republic recognise our power and our right to rule."

Ajunta tilted his head as he observed his visitor standing there running her hands over the fabric of the robes of his beloved, his Nira. "We had a secret motive, Nira and I." Bastila looked up at the sound of the name. "The Jedi had told us we were wrong to feel the way we did for each other. Oh, how we wanted to prove them wrong."

_I feel the bitterness still, even after all this time. _Ajunta thought to himself.

"Jarren, the one who had led us before we fled the Jedi, was killed during our escape; the rest looked to me for direction." Ajunta rubbed his hands together; these memories were painful. "So we came here, and used our might to subjugate the Sith natives of Korriban, taking the title of Lords of the Sith. I was made the Dark Lord."

_I hope she hears and understands what comes next. _"I wanted to share the title…the throne. I wanted Nira to sit on it beside me so that we could be together as we wished to be."

It worked as he intended; his young visitor suddenly forgot all about the robes and just looked at him, the words coming ever so slowly. "Did…did you succeed?" she cautiously asked, her tone betraying her underlying fear for what the answer might be.

He took a moment before answering, seeing his visitor's body tense up significantly during the silence. "Yes, the others grudgingly allowed it." He could almost feel her relief physically as he spoke the words.

"We had such grand plans for the Galaxy." Ajunta made an effort not to let too much sarcasm slip into his voice, since his visitor probably take offence. "We were so certain of the future, of how things would play out, and we were wrong."

He stared intensely at his young visitor, and noticed the way she started to rub her hands together, not being able to keep her feet still as he continued. "This planet, it has secrets even we were not aware of, things that corrupt and twist perceptions." His voice was trembling now as the bitter memories washed over him. "When we found it, we were certain that we had found the key to our victory. Something that would grant us the means to take revenge on the Jedi." He paused. "But plans are fragile things…easily unmade, more often by their own creators than any others."

_Yes…plans are indeed fragile. And power is a hollow motive when you lose everything you care for whilst acquiring it. What proud fools we were._

"My motivation was knowledge; what we unearthed here brought about new questions, questions that I devoted myself to wholly and completely." _I built my own prison,_ Ajunta thought sadly. "I kept my findings secret, even from Nira. I was determined that _I _would be the one to unlock the power that lay out there…waiting."

His visitor finally broke the silence after a brief pause. "Did you…did you find what you were looking for?" Her words were eager and curious. "What was it?"

"Yes…I found it." Ajunta slowly began, casually ignoring the second part of the question "I remember the day I did. How proud I was when I had summoned all my brethren and my queen to the gathering where I would announce how I would lead us all to victory against the Jedi." He moved over to the podium that still held his sarcophagus and gently touched the surface as he continued. "But things did not go as I had planned. I was not greeted with excitement or support. I was met by drawn weapons. The others…they had grown tired of my solitude, my unilateral rule. And so they had decided to remove me."

"And you have been in this tomb ever since?" Bastila asked.

"No" Ajunta replied and gave a dry laugh. "No, I did what any Sith Lord would do: I killed those who would stand against me, though not without suffering severe wounds." The pained look returned to his face. "I kept on fighting until the blades of my sword were entirely covered in crimson, and then Nira stepped from the ranks and raised her blade against mine."

Bastila was amazed. This…ghost was actually trembling as he was saying these words. _Remarkable. Or he was a weak fool._

"I could not win that fight. Two of the others joined the battle and my mind was awash with thoughts. Fighting Nira was not like any fight I had ever fought before. I was forced on the defensive, and soon enough one of the opposing blades found its mark."

_So you were weak_, Bastila mused to herself. _Still, to remain here all these millennia leaves no question that in terms of Force abilities, this spectre had indeed been a powerful Sith…when he was alive._

"I still don't know if things could have been different, but there I was: wounded, helpless on the ground when I looked into her eyes just as Damral, one of the other Sith was about to deliver the killing blow. In that moment; it was as if we both forgot everything that had happened since arriving here. Like a great veil had been lifted from our eyes and we could suddenly see again. We suddenly remembered. And that was when…she threw herself in front of Damral's blade."

"She gave her life for me, and when I looked into her eyes those final seconds before they went lifeless my rage knew no boundaries. It gave me the strength to rise and deal with the remaining traitors. The battle left the walls of the room crimson with their blood."

"And in the end, all my search for power and vengeance earned me was the loss of what had really mattered to me. So despite her schemes, I laid her to rest here in my mausoleum, hoping that when the time did come for me to have the mantle of Dark Lord taken from me, I would be able to rest with her at last."

Bastila slowly returned to examining the bundle that had contained the robes as Ajunta went on.

"But regret is a powerful emotion, and so is loss." He shook his head and then turned to face Bastila directly. "What I would pass on to you, young one, is this: guard your feelings, treasure them. Embrace what you truly feel in your heart. Do not let power or the lust for power consume you, lest you end your days as I. And it is my hope that by giving you that--" he gestured towards the robes in Bastila's hands, "you will keep this in mind as you face your future. Remember the past, lest you repeat it."

He gestured and the door to the chamber opened wide with a grating sound. "You may leave whenever you like, young one. Mind my words."

Bastila quickly gathered the robes up and made for the door; this place had become very uncomfortable for her in the past few minutes. She didn't run, but walked swiftly and silently to the exit from the tomb. She did not look back as she moved into the setting sunlight of Korriban.

Ajunta Pall lingered in the darkness for a time until he heard the voice: "Do you think she will heed your words, Ajunta?" The voice was soft, yet carried the wisdom and experience of millennia.

"I do not know, Nira my love. The future is a shifting thing, and I sense this one has many hard choices to make."

"If it helps her and the one she cares for to avoid sharing our fate, then it will have been worth the effort. Life was cruel to us, my darling Ajunta."

"I had to make the effort, Nira. The one she cares for is the one who released me from my self-imposed prison. The one who made it possible to return to the light and become one with the Force, and to be with you once more."

"I know, my dear, and it is a commendable effort. But you have done all you can now…the rest is up to them."

_Yes, indeed. Make the right choices, and never forget what you feel for him, young Bastila,_ Ajunta Pall thought as his spirit faded back into the currents of the Force…


End file.
